


The Way of Things

by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12



Series: The Life and Times of Count Dooku [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, Friendship, Jedi Code, Missions, Non-Graphic Violence, Relationship(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 27,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7071076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12/pseuds/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are twenty that have left the Order, abandoned their life as Jedi. And behind them burns a legacy that time has not managed to erase. Especially when the memories of them burns inside those they left behind. None's legacy is more marked than that of Count Dooku, infamous Lord of the Sith. But before the darkness, there was light. Dooku/Jocasta. Extends from pre TPM to ROTS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Realizations

**Author's Note:**

> Another pairing I'm getting into, Dooku/Jocasta. They're both salty and intelligent enough to work together nicely. Dooku is fascinating, always. Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think :)

He was far too formal. He walked with a self-assured gait that she found exceedingly arrogant, he rarely smiled and when he did it was usually to secure his end of an argument. Even his hair, thick and black, was used to frame his face in a way that gave him a distinct air of authority. Even his eyes, in what she would have normally considered a warm brown color, were narrowed severely at the moment. He was regarding his apprentice with some sort of austere trepidation, watching the boy who was far quieter than his master, but far less impassive.

"Why have we come to the archives, Master?" The boy's name was Qui-Gon, Jocasta had seen him come in with the young initiates since he was a young child. He had once had long reaching hair, now clipped short as his new Padawan braid stood tightly behind his ear. She wasn't sure exactly when he had been taken as a Padawan, but this pair had been together less than a week.

"For you to work with Madame Nu, Qui-Gon. I have agreed to assist with the younglings who are exploring the archives for the first time today." She was surprised, in all the years she had seen him, she had never known him to go willingly to assist the younglings. He almost seemed too serious to be with the children. She had known him as an initiate, though a few years his senior, and he had always seemed to be exceptionally quiet and disproportionately focused on his training. After the incident she had heard with him, Lorian, and the Sith Holocron; she had watched as he slowly separated himself from other Padawans his age. If he made close friends, she hadn't known them.

Qui-Gon turned to her. "I'm ready to work, Madame Nu." And she had to smile, he was a sweet boy. She looked up to speak with his master, but the man had already disappeared, the clacking of his boots the only evidence that he had been there. She couldn't help but repress a small sigh at his callousness.

"Excellent," She directed at Qui-Gon who seemed to be eagerly awaiting her reply. "I'm in need of some help." He smiled, and soon the pair of them set to work. She had to admit the boy was fun to be around, he had a calm way of approaching both himself and the task at hand that kept her at ease, even as he managed to knock over an entire row of Holo-files, spilling them into an indistinguishable pile on the floor. His entire demeanor crackled with the living force, and he buzzed happily with life. She left him to himself for some time though, going to shelve books in a differnet part of the archives.

"Come, younglings; there is more to see." She stopped as she heard him, followed by a heard of less-even footsteps and mumbling. She looked up to see him leading a group of children, all of them dressed in their tiny beige tunics, scurrying behind him where he was intentionally shortening his long, athletic strides. He paused them on one of the learning mats in front of the bookcases, and sat cross-legged in front of them. The small ones followed suit, sitting around him in a semi-circle. She watched as a little twilek girl came over to him.

"Master Dooku," Her voice was so tiny it barely registered in the library space that seemed to soak up any extra noise. "Can I sit next to you?"

To her surprise, he gave her a warm smile. "Of course, little one." And she took a seat next to him, pressing her hand against his knee to balance herself.

"Why, then, are the archives so important?" The squinted their eyes and seemed to focus, but one little male spoke up quickly.

"They have all the knowledge in the whole entire galaxy!" Again to her surprise, she heard him laugh. She was drawn to it, to picture him, normally so serious and composed, lost in laughter.

"Not quite." He waved his hand around to indicate the bookshelves that were stacked with glowing blue Holo-files, "Although, certainly, there is more collected knowledge her than anywhere in the galaxy, except for perhaps Korriban." They all gasped at the mention of the Sith home world, but he shook his head. "We must not fear the Sith, younglings, fear is not the way of the Jedi." They all nodded reverently. "Why else, then, are the archives of such importance?"

"They help Jedi on missions." The little twi'lek on his right spoke to him, and he nodded. He waited on other responses, but none came.

"Perhaps, if she doesn't mind, Madame Nu might assist us." She had been unaware that he knew she was watching, and she felt the faint blush come to her cheeks as he turned to look over her shoulder, leaning back on his outstretched arms to look at her with a small smile. This was certainly strange.

"Why of course, Master Dooku." She walked over and took a seat next to him on his other side on the mat.

"This, younglings is Madame Nu, she is the newly appointed keeper of the Jedi archives." All the children nodded, looking at her with piqued interest. "It takes an incredibly intelligent Jedi to become master of the archives, especially at such a young age. Madame Nu is exceptionally intelligent, so you need to give her your full attendance."

All of the children watched her as she sat for a moment in stunned silence. She had never heard him compliment anyone except for the rare praise he reserved for his own master. She simply blinked and stared, determined not to let the small blush coming to her features show to him. "Thank you for your kind words, Master Dooku." He nodded at her, and she was conscious of his gaze on her most of the time as she wove an explanation to the younglings.

At the end, when the High Master came for the children, she stayed next to him, standing and watching them leave. The little female squeezed his hand gently, and he smiled down at her before she turned to run away behind her group mates.

"Thank you, Madame, for your help." His tone was back to being even, but he could fool her no longer. She had seen a part of him he did not allow to show. "I should probably find Qui-Gon before he manages to get into trouble. He seems to have quite the knack for it." He said, and turned, but waited on her to walk with him.

"He is a nice boy." She defended him, but when she glanced over, she saw his own amusement flit across his face.

"Very much so. He will be an excellent Jedi." As they rounded the corner, she watched as Qui-Gon almost tripped, carrying a box of Holo-files. "As soon as he grows into those feet." She laughed, surprised still at this side of him.

"Let us go, Qui-Gon. It's time for the midday meal." His apprentice perked up at the mention of food, setting his box on its destined shelf and moving to get his robe and lightsaber where he had left them.

"And Jocasta.." She was startled at his use of her first name. "I don't say things unless they are true."

And shortly after, she watched his back, clothed dark gray, as he followed his apprentice out into the hallway of the temple. Her mind replayed the episode in her head. What a strange thing, to see him like this. What a strange thing, to still be thinking of him.


	2. Adventure

He stopped, arms crossed over his chest. "Where are we going, Master?" Qui-Gon now stood level with his shoulders, he was growing faster than the weeds that threatened to overtake the Senate gardens every Coruscant spring. In the brief six months six he had been apprenticed to Dooku, he was nearly a foot taller and was finally adjusting with the easy grace of a Jedi. His voice was deeper now, more level.

"Korriban." He replied, and could feel Qui-Gon's full stare at him.

"The council said nothing of this, Master." He was not arguing, only in private did Qui-Gon question things openly.

"This is not to be on open record, Padawan. We are the team escort for Madame Nu." He felt qui-Gon shift, and heard, slightly exasperatedly, but also amused; a soft crunch as his apprentice began vigorously chewing a dried fruit. He had not yet managed to fill Qui-Gon up, the boy could consume an entire tray of meats by the time Dooku finished his soup at dinner. Others were beginning to take notice, but in his calm way, Qui-Gon did not seem to care. The medics had told him that his apprentice would definitely be over six foot tall, and would more than likely exceed that easily. He realized that day was coming sooner rather than later.

"Why is Madame Nu going?"

"We are retrieving a Holocron." No Qui-Gon couldn't hide his startled look. But he did not ask any more questions as Madame Nu, dressed athletically and instead of in her typical archival clothes, came around the corner. Her lightsaber was clipped to her belt, her hair twisted in a long braid.

"Master Dooku. Qui-Gon." She nodded at them, her eyes perceptive as she regarded Qui-Gon, who swallowed the last of his food. "We should get started." Dooku regarded her seriously, her dark brown hair a sharp contrast to her eyes. He hadn't spoken to her, except in passing, since he had instructed that small group of younglings. He had ventured to the archives, but the Padawans who worked the rooms tended to help him as she was usually busy.

"Of course, Madame Nu." He gestured to the ship. "Lead the way." And he followed her up the ramp, Qui-Gon thumping along behind him.

"Are you sure you don't want to pilot, Master?" Qui-Gon's voice came through the cockpit. It was the first time Dooku had allowed him to pilot them alone on a missions, the cockpit large enough only for one pilot. He could hear the slight nerves in Qui-Gon's voice, but the boy was more than ready. He pressed the comm console again, Jocasta pausing her datapad reading to watch him, her eyes turned up.

"No, Padawan. I have faith in your abilities to get us there safely."

"Thank you, Master." But it sounded obligatory. He looked over at his companion, her legs stretched and crossed over the length of the couch in the passenger compartment of their ship. She was smiling, but trying to hide it behind her data pad.

"Is something funny, Madame?" She looked over at him sharply, her gaze pointed down her thin nose.

"Call me Jocasta, please. I grow tired of my official title, sometimes, Master Dooku."

"Simply Dooku will suffice." His lips ticked upwards despite his intentions. "Do you think that something is amusing, Jocasta?"

"Your apprentice." She said pointedly, her eyes betraying her with a sparkle. "He seems nervous, but I must say he's doing a fantastic job piloting." The galaxy would not let her words hold true as they exited hyperspace to enter the Korriban airspace and the ship rocked along its wings. "For the most part." She added quickly.

"Yes, well, for a fourteen year old, he shows great promise." And they shared a gentle laugh together. He was twenty four years old, and his entire life in the order had been dedicated to service. He would not say that he had close friends. His old master was easy enough to speak with, but he could feel his watchful eye follow him. He supposed he could count Qui-Gon, but he was essentially a child, and Dooku's apprentice. Their relationship, while not one sided, had an extent to which it could go. And that was nothing of his experience with women.

He had women show interest in him, friendship or something more intimate, but in the same way he regarded all beings, he found it difficult to be attached to them. So many people he found to be far below his interest because their intellect was nothing compared to his own. Or their force connection did nothing for him, it was too separate, they did not live their lives as they should. She was intriguingly different.

Her wit was sharp, her mind sharper. She had been an older initiate when he was growing in the temple, and he had always known her to be above arguments, yet somehow always able to win them. She moved with easy grace, and her movements hummed with the unifying force. She was compelling, and he enjoyed these brief moments spent with her. He was not a shy being, but was entirely unsure of her opinion of him. And had little desire to ask.

"Have you ever been to Korriban?" She asked him, folding her data file into her bag, packing as they started to make their descent.

"Once. Master Yoda brought me here when I was sixteen. We were chasing a group of bounty hunters who had made base in one of the old Sith temples." She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised and lips pursed. "It is an intimidating world, nothing that we can't handle."

"You went through the Sith temples at sixteen?" He nodded, and she regarded him carefully for a minute. "There have been masters who haven't been able to go into the temples."

"Master Yoda felt I was ready, I suppose." He said, suddenly sheepish. And he was not a modest man.

"Well…" She moved past him to go to the airlock as he felt them land with an odd sort of grace. Her hand brushed his arm. "That was quite extraordinary of you."

He watched her exit the ramp, gathering the small nutrition packs. His eyes lingered on her hair, loosely pulled into a braid, on her eyes, darting over the different packs as she gathered things, until Qui-Gon came up behind him, chewing loudly on another dried fruit. "You ready, Master?" He felt a brief flash of something, but quelled it.

"Of course." And followed the pair of them down the ramp.

 

"He could have come with us." Jocasta stepped around the ruins of what had once been a bookcase, wrapping a piece of cloth around her hand in order to grip a small, sharp edge of rubble to help pull herself over. Dooku followed behind her, unable to resist the urge to keep his hand off the back hilt of his lightsaber. This place was alive with the force, his nerves, normally so relaxed and hummed with the force were on edge. They were deep in the layers of this temple, decrepit ruins of the dark side around him.

It was a different one than he and Yoda had visited so many years before, different and darker. "He is too young for this. He will be strong enough, but today is not that day." Qui-Gon had remained behind with the ship, and though Dooku has seen the flicker of hurt in his features, but he had not argued. That streak of him was finally evaporating. He did not feel guilty about leaving him sulking quietly by the ship, not now, when this place was so full of evil. "This place has known great evil."

She didn't respond, and he watched her drawn-up hair disappear around a corner of a room, where he scrambled to follow her. He wanted to leave, in fact, he had never wanted to leave somewhere more in his life. The Holocron was close; he could feel it. "Do be careful." He added, refusing to let his voice waver.

She looked back at him. "I feel as though you aren't giving me enough credit, Master Dooku." Her eyebrows were up-ticked as she regarded him and began to sift through empty chest of discarded materials. He felt the looming threats, she was near the Holocron and the old energy that pulsed through the, but her gaze didn't leave his for a moment. "I'm more than able to handle myself." And in her hand came the small, metallic cube that contained within it enough information to bring the order to its knees, and she punctuated her words with a wink. He couldn't help the small, involuntary smile at her, but as she turned to begin leading them back to the upper layers, he couldn't suppress the small, involuntary shudder that ran through him.

"I thought I said just Dooku would suffice." As soon as they were free of the temple, he couldn't help the slight tease that left his mouth.

"And I thought you said that Qui-Gon was too young to explore the Sith temples." Dooku whipped around to see his apprentice running from the rubble of one of the other temples, attempting to get back to the ship before his master noticed he had gone. He let out a long sigh, refusing to look at Jocasta as he heard her low laugh that she hardly bothered to hide.


	3. Concern

She notices him lingering in the archives more often. He doesn't bring Qui-Gon either, the boy too busy with his temple classes for first-round Padawan that he is often separate from his master for a long period of time. But today, unlike every other day this week, it is the opposite, and the boy is the one looking at her quizzically over a pile of data pads.

"Did you need something, Qui-Gon?" He is impossibly taller, even than he was on their last mission. He hesitates, caught between shaking his head and telling her the truth. She waits, her gaze pointed. He is not nearly as good at lying as his master.

"Yes." He says, and hesitates again, swinging a pair of gangly legs off the stool to come over to her. "Can we walk somewhere where there aren't so many people?" Something must be genuinely bothering him because there was only one other person in the room, an old Jedi master who might have been dozing in one of the comfortable chairs by a large window. But she nodded, trying to seem supportive.

They walked through bookshelves, weaving around to some odd corner of the library that was entirely quiet. He paused again, taller than her, but still holding his gaze down at her air of authority. "I am worried about Master Dooku."

She was surprised, not able to hide it; she might call herself and Dooku friends, but they had not spent much time together. She thought of the last few weeks, of his lingering presence, and a faint smile came to her cheeks. "I don't understand." To her knowledge, nothing was wrong with Dooku, or if there was, the private Jedi Knight had not mentioned it.

"He is distracted.' Qui-Gon said in reply, taking a step away and not looking at her. "Since we retrieved the Holocron, he had acted differently." The three of them had traveled to Korriban not long before. The trip there, and the actual retrieval had been easy enough. Being boarded by pirates on the way home had not been. But she and Dooku had been able to overpower them easily enough, nothing traumatizing, no actual violence. They had laughed about it afterwards, actually, as Qui-Gon had managed to fly them home in one piece, the Holocron intact.

"Is he upset, Qui-Gon?"

"No." The boy was hesitant, as though there were not words in Basic to describe what he could feel emanating from his master. "Simply different. I was only wondering if you had noticed a change as well."

"I would hardly think I know him well enough to make that determination." He turned to regard her, and she could see the power that Dooku always spoke of. His force connection was almost tangible, he thrived on his connection to the living force that led him read beings as though they were words on a page. It was not intrusive though, and his eyes were kind as he regarded her carefully.

"He has spent a great deal of his time with you," The Padawan said carefully, and she was struck by how wise he seemed in this moment. "I am sorry for making an assumption about your connection." He gave a slight bow. "Perhaps I am just mistaken, and he just hasn't been feeling well or something."

"A new mission will come." She placed her hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder, "Master Dooku can more than handle himself, Qui-Gon. He is a very capable Jedi."

The boy nodded, smiling slightly, and his still-boyish features hit her with a touch of gentleness. He was only concerned for his master. That she could respect quite highly. But it was not quite his place to do so, and to ask her brought out an implication that made her slightly uncomfortable.

"Thank you, Madame, for your time and energy. May the force be with you." And his long legs carried the Padawan away from her between the bookshelves. She let out a soft sigh, thinking of her last few weeks.

She felt as though she had come to understand Dooku in a way that many Jedi did not. He was not simply the picture of stoicism that the council and other knights has always portrayed him as. He had emotions, buried under a mask of a silent demeanor. He was, as she could feel emanating from him, incredibly powerful and in tune with the force. He also, based on their many conversations, was fully aware of this fact, and she had taken to teasing him after bouts of pompous words or actions. Which he took in full stride.

He seemed at ease in the archives, but she also realized that he would never allow himself to be seen as out of place regardless of where he was. It was in his nature to appear as though he belonged and was in charge of any situation. Except, she noticed, when he was with her. When he was lingering in the archives as he had been, drawing her in with low conversations of both important and trivial matters, he ahd stepped back whenever her responsibilities called her away. He has bowed to her in respect when other Jedi came in, stepped back when she clearly knew what she was doing within the confines of the archives, had given her clear space, and yet seemed to want to be always close to her. He had relinquished part of himself, and she was glad for she might have found a good friend within him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"Is something troubling you?" Dooku asked, looking over a datapad that was heled suspended in his long fingers, his other hand tucked behind his back.

She started, but smirked away her shock. It was a quiet evening in the archives, it was only she and Dooku within the knowledge. His apprentice had returned to temple classes, now working, according to Dooku, on advanced level meditation in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. His connection to the living force had elevated him well above his classmates, and he was now working with the senior Padawans to help tune in his connection. Dooku was proud, only a small glimmer of it showing through him however.

"No." In truth, something might have been. Her conversation earlier that day with Qui-Gon was still weighing on her mind, but now, Dooku did not seem distracted. He seemed as he always did around her, if even more inviting. "At least not too much."

"You can tell me." He said slowly, obviously trying to avoid putting pressure on her. "I've been working a great deal on my listening skills since Qui-Gon decided to begin questioning the finer points of the force." The smirk on his face, his scruffy beard dark in the dim light of the archives, made her smile in turn.

"I am thinking only of you, Dooku. A certain Padawan is worried about his Master." She said pointedly, and Dooku raised his eyebrows, setting the datapad down and leaning forward on his hands. "He says you seem distracted as of late."

"Qui-Gon's concern is unfounded, I assure you." He responded tersely. He didn't like being questioned, she had noticed, but in absence of a reply, he sighed instead. "Or mostly unfounded."

"Something is bothering you then?" She asked. He shook his head in answer, his gaze breaking from her to go down to his hands that were curled into fists on the table.

"No." He met her gaze again, his smile gone, a strange expression on his face. "Something is distracting me."

Before she could respond then, he had taken the datapad and placed it back on the shelf. Still half-turned away from her, he paused. "Goodnight, Madame." He said, with the faintest hint of a smile, before he turned and left.


	4. Spar

She watched him move gracefully around the floor, twisting, turning, blocking each of Qui-Gon's moves as they came to him. The boy was good, but he was a Master; that much was evident. She didn't make it a habit of observing lightsaber sparring, but Dooku, after the two of them had eaten together in the dining hall the night before, had invited her. After her conversation with Qui-Gon, she had begun spending more and more time around the quiet Jedi Knight. She and Qui-Gon had only been on two short missions, and for the rest of the two months, they had been here.

She had come to expect him in the archives, had watched him as he led the meditation classes for senior Padawans in the Room of One Thousand Fountains. She came to enjoy his sharp wit and dry humor, and found herself wishing for his company when he was away. Which is why she supposed she had come today; she had never seen him like this. He was the perfect embodiment of the control and discipline that all Jedi were supposed to endure; he moved like his bones were made of water and as she watched, he simply flipped qui-Gon's green blade over his head, caught it deftly and leveled the point of his curved blue saber at the boy's chest.

"You need to maintain your concentration, Qui-Gon. It was better than last time, but you lack focus."

"Yes, master." Qui-Gon breathed out, taking his lightsaber back from his master. He was almost eye-level with the older man now, having grown more and more. He was incredibly physically strong, but Dooku was right, he had become frustrated too easily by his master's movements. He would have to concentrate harder. Not that Dooku was unscathed, as he ran a hand through his thick black hair, she saw the beads of sweat that came off of his forehead onto his gloves. "I will do better next time."

"Of course you will, you learn quickly." Qui-Gon looked taken aback by the unexpected praise, "When you listen." And the boy blushed, turning away to grab his towel. "I'll be back at the room for the evening meal, you can have the afternoon to yourself."

"Thank you, master!" Though he bowed, level-headed, she could hear his excitement. A free afternoon in the temple was a gift to a Padawan learner, especially when she knew Dooku to be quite strict in their training regimen. The boy departed, walking in quick, long strides until the door shut behind him.

"He is quite gifted." She said, rising to stand near Dooku on the sparring mat. He turned to her, a half-smile on his face, his lips curved upwards.

"He is indeed. But I didn't invite you here to observe my Padawan, Madam." He said, and to her surprise, he bowed to her in invitation. "I wondered if you might do me the honor of sparring with me."

She widened her gaze in surprise. Though she was a Jedi Knight, capable of holding her own, he was practically a Form II master; there was no way for her to defeat him. But he extended his arm to help her on the mat, and she knew she couldn't decline. She wasn't one to back down from a challenge. She returned his bow and pulled back into her stance.

"Winner when the other would actually lose?" An equivalent to a hit, a disarming, pinning the other. Typical sparring rules. She nodded her agreement as his hand slid behind his back to give him better balance, his blade balanced on the tips of his fingers.

He waited, not typical of a Makashi fighter; for her to attack. Instead, she leapt into the air, and spun around to attack him. He grinned at her, blocking it easily before launching into his attack. Everyone of his swings, she parried; every one of her attacks, he blocked. They were a dazzling blur of blue light, much more involved than the fight with his Padawan; she was fully trained, particularly in Form III, which offered her the defensive blocks to his offensive style.

But more than that, she could feel a strange tension between them. Not unpleasant, it was full of vitality. It gave her an access to his force signature, she felt as though she could feel his breathing and heartbeat, working in tandem as their blades hummed with energy. It took her by surprise; it wasn't a new feeling, exactly, but not one she allowed herself to think of except late at night, when he was nowhere near her.

He was attractive, and now, moving athletically, his half-smile still intact; he was quite appealing. But she was a Jedi, and while these feelings and physical relationships weren't forbidden either, she valued his friendship. She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts, which broke her perfect concentration. She found the tip of his lightsaber at his neck and realized, now stopped, how hard she had been breathing.

"An excellent fight, Master Dooku." He pulled the blade back and bowed again.

"You are a worthy opponent, Jocasta." She liked that, when he used her first name. It sounded odd, in his accent, but not in a bad way. "Perhaps we can do this again soon, before Qui-Gon and I are called away on a mission."

She felt it again, that initial pull to him; physically, but also through the force. The connection between them. She tried to shrug it off, but his brow furrowed a bit and she knew he could feel it to. She refastened her hair, the ends slightly damp, in its position. He ran a hand through his own, stumbling over his words for the first time since she had known him. "Or, we could eat the evening meal together tomorrow, if you would like?"

"Of course. I believe its soup night in the dining area." She said, and he sucked in a breath before turning his gaze back to her.

"Or, if you were interested, we could eat somewhere in the city." He said all of this rather quickly, "I know of a few decent places. It could be nice to be away in the company of…a friend."

She looked at him for a minute, finding his false confidence rather endearing to her own chagrin. "I agree. Why don't you come by the library, and we can leave from there." He smiled and breathed out the tension in his face.

"Of course, madam." He gave her another short bow, a full grin on his serious features. "I'll clean up in here." She suspicioned he might have wanted a moment alone, and she couldn't help but feel the same way. She re-clipped her lightsaber to her belt and stepped out the door, wondering whether the force knew that it was prodding her forward, into this new, exciting, dangerous territory.


	5. Chapter 5

He straightened the pin line of his tunic, clipping together the fastenings on the new, dark brown fabric freshly pressed and lined. "You look very nice, Master." Qui-Gon was seated on one of their meditation mats, his eyes closed in concentration as he levitated spoonfuls of soup and pieces of bread to his mouth.

"It's amazing how you can see that, Padawan; given that your eyes are closed." He heard the snort of laughter and clatter of the spoon onto the floor. He turned his scowl to the boy, who was hurriedly wiping it from the floor. "Your connection to the force must be beyond what I can comprehend."

"I only mean that you always look well-dressed, Master. And I don't understand why you're worried to begin with; Madame Nu wouldn't mind how you're dressed." Qui-Gon blinked slowly at him before smiling. "Even if you did look frumpy." Dooku turned away quickly, feigning grabbing for a robe so Qui-Gon couldn't see his blush. And of course, the boy was right. Jocasta would not mind, and he really wasn't sure why he minded so much. She was a friend, a good friend; nothing more. The code would not allow for it.

"It is important to always look our best, Padawan. It is good training for when you will travel the galaxy as a diplomat someday." The boy was back to levitating soup, and instead of letting it fall to the floor, he swallowed the spoonful of soup before opening his eyes again to his master.

"I don't think I have the demeanor for a diplomat, Master." Qui-Gon was not one for words, or to be bothered easily. He didn't seem bothered by this personal observation, seemingly content with his conclusion. It both impressed Dooku with its simplicity, and infuriated him with the thought that Qui-Gon was settling when he knew how impeccably talented the boy was. "I don't enjoy talking enough for diplomacy."

"We must all do as the Council asks of us; whether that be diplomacy or not." He tucked his lightsaber into his belt the handle polished.

"It doesn't seem as though you always follow your own advice, Master." Qui-Gon said pointedly, and Dooku cocked an eyebrow. Realizing he may have gone too far in questioning his master, he turned back to his soup, "Have a good evening. May the force be with you."

Dooku snorted as well, rolling his eyes. "And with you." Before he let the door close behind him, feeling again the clatter of the spoon behind him. He sighed, eventually, the boy might be able to concentrate. He was far too caught up in focusing on other people, plants, and animals; his connection to the living force was astounding but he lacked concentration. He spent almost as much time contemplating unsolvable mysteries as he did in lightsaber training; it was a far different approach from his own views of the force, where concentration was everything and power only came from within, not the connections made to other things.

He stepped through the halls, returning short bows to those who offered them to him, making unusually athletic strides. He was a Jeid Knight, he did not get nervous. Perhaps if he said that enough times to himself, his nerves would relax.

The library was dark, only the blue glow of Holo-books ignited it; those species of Jedi more nocturnal milling about in the back. But she was there, as she had said, powering down one of the archive machines as it neared the time they had wanted to meet. The Coruscant skyline was darkening, and the night below it was coming to life. He stood for a moment and watched her, hearing a faint tune that she was humming that without his focus would have been sucked up into the seemingly never ending rows of shelves and tables; before he reached to her with the force.

She looked over at him and smiled at close-lipped smile at him, pressing a finger to his lips. Instead, he extended his arm, offering it for her to put her arm through, which she did, and they exited the room in silence. The halls lights were dimmed as well for the evening, and the silence that had been lain upon them continued all the way to the hangar; but it was not, by nature, unpleasant.

He took the time to regard her, she was truly remarkable. She carried herself with the confidence of a scholar: when the old Master of the Archives had unexpectedly joined the force and she had been pushed into the position, still so young, she had taken it with stride. Her face was intelligent, sereme and calm as a true Jedi Master should be, but he also acknowledged that she was beautiful. Her hair, dark brown, was pulled back in a looser braid than she normally wore, the rest of it hanging underneath the braid. It framed her thin face rather nicely, he couldn't help but notice to himself. Her eyes were pale blue to his dark brown, brought out by the dress she wore. It was a simple archivers dress, but he thought it was quite captivating.

"I take it yours is the one with two seats?" She said, smirking at him slightly.

"I don't know, Madame, I thought you might enjoy the thrill of one of those speeder bikes." He said, gesturing at a row of single-seat, gleaming bikes with large engines and little space. "But if you're certain, I suppose we can take that one." They unlocked arms, boarding a red, two-seated speeder that he was borrowing from an acquaintance in the speeder pool; it was nice enough, and he knew how to drive it.

The air lanes were packed, he couldn't speak over the whirring of other engines and thrumming night life of the city, but she didn't seem to mind. She had her arm on the sideboard, hair whipping slightly in the rush of wind; a small smile on her face.

He dipped them under suddenly, going down several levels in a few seconds. Her hands gripped the armrest, the only outward sign that their speed worried her. He had to grin, rarely had he ever risked such a maneuver, and he wasn't quite sure what was possessing him to do it now. Her grip loosened only when they had parked outside of a small restaurant, featuring cuisine from the mid rim systems. He had never actually been there, but had heard several people in the Senate discussing it, and thought it might be to her taste.

"This is a wonderful place." She breathed, moving over the ledge of the speeder before he could extend a hand to help her from the seat.

"Yes," He coughed into a gloved hand. "I thought a place might be to your taste, seeing as how you've explored many of the planets whose food they offer."

She smiled over at him, holding the door so he could enter easily behind her. The place was busy, but dimly lit so the people remained hushed. The only customers Dooku could hear over the distinctive hum of conversation was an elderly human couple, where the woman was reading to her husband rather loudly as he had seemed to have forgotten his glasses. Dooku resisted the urge to roll his eyes, a twinge of guilt hitting him as she watched Jocasta regard them with a silent smile curved with laughter.

"Two, please." She said, to a host. He was humanoid, with blue skin and two quivering antenna.

"Would you like a place in the back?" He said, hushed and hurriedly. At her confused look, he leaned closer, whispering, "It's not often we get Jedi, I thought you might want some peace." A quick glance confirmed the man's concerns, Dooku could feel eyes on them, lingering on the curved hilt of his lightsaber that managed to catch even the dim light of the lamps.

"That would be lovely." She said, "Thank you." Dooku nodded in silent agreement and they weaved through tables of busy eaters, past young couples and small families. A group of friends that smelled strongly of wine and citrus fruits. A young waitress who smiled at them before scurrying away quickly after seeing their lightsabers. Finally, after what seemed a very long fifteen seconds, they came to an isolated booth, pressed into the back corner. He took the seat where he could see the door, an old habit after years spent watching for danger over Yoda's head; and she slid in across from him, thanking the waiter.

"You're the expert, Madame; what would you recommend?" There was an assortment of languages on the menu, one of which was Basic, and every variety of food he could think possible. All sorts of stewed and fileted foods that he didn't know one could even cook that way. There was one meat cooked in thirteen separate ways, only six of which he had heard of. He was beginning to regret his decision.

"Please, do call me Jocasta."

He blinked in surprise at her, but smiled.

"Jocasta, then. What would you recommend?" He cataloged mentally all of the culinary words he did not recognize, he would find them when they returned to the temple; this sort of thing would not happen again.

"I enjoy the soup. Or the pasta. Or perhaps the salad." She looked up and laughed at his pointed look, "Perhaps I'm not the best to ask."

He returned her laugh with a slight chuckle, trying instead to decipher the drink menu. "Would you like to share a bottle of wine?" He asked, noting her following silence. He looked up and followed her gaze. Along the other wall, two empty booths away was a young couple, close to their age; kissing in one side of the booth. Perched on the end of their table was a large bottle of wine. His face reddened, a rare sight, "Although perhaps not what they're having."

In the end, they agreed on a nice bottle of dry wine, and both were surprised to see the other order the same pasta dish. The conversation turned then, to other things. Old missions, where he told her the most exciting tales he could recall as Yoda's Padawan; and listened with rapt attention as she recalled her own traveling the galaxy with her own master, collecting information. Though Dooku had known he was not one for a career in the archives, that his place lie within the ranks of the Jedi Guardians; he had to admit that it all sounded very exciting. Especially to hear her tell it, laughing gently at her own follies and old jokes that would have been long buried had he not taken the time to prod her gently. He was enraptured by her words, molding images into his own mine of the kinds of explorative missions he would like to take his own apprentice on.

When the pasta arrived, the conversation slowed, but never quite came close to stopping. "It must be odd to think of yourself as an apprentice when you have one of your own now, Master Dooku."

"Please, just Dooku." And he winked, returning her words, taking a long bite of pasta before replying. "It is not so strange; I suppose. This is what all Jedi are to do as Knights, and Qui-Gon has only aided in my own understanding. In some ways, we are all still students."

"In most ways," she agreed. And they continued, well past the finishing of their plates; two glasses of wine each. Even the couple, previously so intertwined, had left when they were finally satisfied to leave. He paid with his discretionary money from the Order, knowing he didn't have to worry about cost. He couldn't remember the last frivolous thing he had even bought except for Qui-Gon's life day gift, but he would consider this occasion to be far from frivolous.

They walk side by side to the speeder, the tired host thanking them for their time and the generous tip they had left behind. A light breeze, stirred up by overhead speeders, runs through his short hair, pushing it even more severely off his forehead. "Thank you for a lovely evening," She said, and maybe it's just the warmth from the wine moving through him, but he feels pulled to her. He notices, until they get to the car, they are slowly moving closer and closer together; but he doesn't pull away from her. For the first time, he doesn't want to pull away from her.

"You as well," He says and offers her a small bow as they stand in front of the vehicle, illuminated clearly by a neon sign. "I suppose that now we return to the temple."

"Of course," She answers in what he thinks might be a second too quickly, but he can sense just the slight tremor of nervousness running through her. Or perhaps it is his imagination and it's only running through him. It's later that night that he's amazed that their force connection has grown close enough for him to feel this in touch with her. He moves to start the speeder, but she stops him with a small hand on his arm.

"If you don't mind, Dooku; I would like to drive us back." He laughs out loud at that one, surrendering the keys as she adds several, albeit, safer minutes to their return to the temple.


	6. Chapter 6

She stood by the window of her apartment; wondering what exactly was happening. She had tried meditating, but that had proven to be no use. A Jedi who lacked focus was a Jedi who would have trouble meditating. Now she was conceedingly both; and had given up on the practice for the moment.

It was early morning, and though the city never slept, she could now see the Senate coming to life in the background of Coruscant. She touched fingers to her face, where her hair, normally done up in a tight bun, hung loose along her shoulders. She had not had the audacity to put it up in its usual form. She wondered if he was feeling the same sort of turmoil.

The pull to him was growing stronger. More than physical, though that was certainly there. She had had relationships like that before: purely physical and of little consequence. This was different. While physically attractive, there was far more than that. When she was around him, it was almost as if their force energies were working in tandem, she could feel his buzz with life and an odd warmth that was unfamiliar. She could feel her own signature change, become more open to him while more reserved to the rest of the world, the living force becoming so prominent in her being that it was almost addicting to be near him.

With that, she felt a twinge of guilt. Followed by a not so subtle rush. She stepped from the window, pulling her hair back far more loosely than she normally would, and headed for the library. She would have to concentrate on her work, loose herself in the archives of knowledge, and meditate when things were more conducive. Though, on the way through the halls, hardly any other Jedi awake, she could not help but think of their meal the night before. His hand lingering on her arm as they had arrived at her apartment after. His genuine smile. Her own, surprising wish that he might stay a bit longer.

The next hours passed quickly though: a quiet midday meal, hours organizing knowledge, a small meeting with a few members of the council regarding the completeness of the Outer Rim archives. She had managed to push him from her thoughts, until, as night began to fall again on Coruscant and the light outside the walls began to fade into the calm stillness that meant the library was closing. The lights went down in the library as she began to close down the lights and reading spaces, getting many nods from excited younglings who had been learning about the upcoming Apprentice tournaments for older Padawans. It had been an easy day, one that was quiet but full of laughter from these small children.

And then, as she was placing some of the final books on the shelf; assumedly alone, he was there. "Can I help you with those?" His voice was unnaturally quiet, his eyes flickering downwards, a little reservedly before they met hers. He reached out and took one of them in his gloved hand, the fingers missing from the cloth. He placed it in its correct place on the shelf, the blue light glowing faintly off his strong features.

They were silent for a moment. "I enjoyed our dinner," She said, more matter-of-factly than she would have wanted.

"Yes." He replied, cutting himself short, looking down the bookshelf. He seemed as though he wanted to say something, "It is nice to be in your company." He looked up then, met her eyes. He seemed guarded again, in a way she hadn't seen since had first truly spoken with him all those months ago. But there was something there, a strange glint.

"And that's why you've come here tonight?" She said, a teasing smile on her face, hoping to diffuse some of the tension between them.

"That," He laughed along side her, turning to face her more fully; his eyes flickering down and back up to hers; down again and back up. "Is of course part of it." He let out a breath, she was starting to get slightly worried about him. She could feel his signature, it was almost wildly erratic; though she couldn't sya much. All of her thoughts from the night before, form that morning were coming back to her, standing so close to him.

"Qui-Gon told me he thought I was distracted." He began again. "I refused to acknowledge it." She felt something then, that strange pull; only this time it was accompanied by the physical touch of his fingers to her cheek, her jaw. "But he isn't wrong. There is something that's been on my mind, I'm afraid." His voice was only a strong whisper.

He leaned down to her, and in a quick motion, pressed his lips against hers. She couldn't react, not physically. Her force signature flared; this is what she had wanted, for longer than she was willing to admit. But still, her Jedi training retaliated against it. After a moment, he pulled back, then stepped away from her.

"I apologize, Jocasta. " And he turned from her. He took a step before she could speak.

"Dooku…" He paused.

"I understand, Madam. I do apologize. I should not have done that." And he started moving again, out the door, beyond all of this. And something else, perhaps not her mind, reacted against that. She reached forward just managed to catch the sleeve of his tunic in the tips of her fingers.

He turned, and in the same moment he did; she wrapped her hand around to twirl her fingers in his hair, and pulled him into another kiss. His surprise lasted only a moment before his arms came around her. Though he was hesitant, it deepened shortly after; and when they finally split apart, they were holding each other close, breathless.

She thought she could feel his heartbeat, through the force perhaps, or just their physical bond. They stayed like that for a moment, before she stepped back from him. "I should retire." She said, though she every much wanted to kiss him again.

"Of course." And he watched her go, though she could no longer feel his distress. Only a sweet feeling that curled around her; through her fingers, through her mind, through her heart. And the feel of him, pressed against her, the taste of his lips; it lingered.

But under that, buried deep enough that she refused to acknowledge it as she stepped into her room for the night; was something far too close to guilt.


	7. Chapter 7

"Distracted, you seem." Yoda stood a small piece in front of him, leaning heavily on his gimmer stick. Dooku felt like sighing; if one other person told him that today, he might explode. First of course, had been Qui-Gon, though he had perhaps been well within his boundaries since the porridge he had been cooking had swelled into a dangerous bubble that threatened to explode over the pair of them. Second had been the fleet operator, when he had genuinely not heard a word the man said and almost booked a single person cruiser for himself and Qui-Gon on an upcoming mission. And now, his old master, who had always been particularly infuriating in his ability to see what was going on with Dooku.

He could feel their old training bond swell, but he pushed against it, choosing instead to keep private thoughts to himself fully. "I assure you, I am fine, Master Yoda."

"Fine, you are." Yoda agreed. "Fine and distracted, you can be." He came almost exactly to Dooku's kneecap and the man was plagued by many memories of carrying the small Jedi through some of the rougher terrain they had been placed in. He hadn't genuinely minded, to have a teacher as powerful in the force as Yoda was a rare gift, a blessing of the force. He could deal with the occasional shoulder pain and added muscular strength; he had dealt with worse things.

"I apologize." He answered, wishing to move the conversation from himself. In truth, he was highly distracted, and he had never considered himself a particularly distractible person to begin with. His thoughts were full of three nights before, in the quiet of the library. Her. Jocasta. How it felt to kiss her. To fully trust her with this shared secret that could ruin them both if anyone ever knew. How it felt to have that sort of force connection to her. It was an odd feeling for him; he would not consider himself one for attachments, romantic or otherwise. But she was brilliant, kind, strong, beautiful, powerful. And he wanted nothing more than to see her again.

"Here to learn about your mission, are you?" he felt another flash of annoyance, Yoda's voice interrupting what had been memories of rather pleasant following dreams. But he looked down and saw his old master's eyes glittering with amusement. "Move to somewhere more private, we should."

Before Yoda could summon a chair, Dooku offered his arm. The elderly Jedi gave a croaky sort of laugh and latched onto his arm. Years before, the two of them walking like this would not have been an unusual sight; but now it drew attention. The younglings they passes in a laughing bunch giggled and pointed before their master shushed them. Dooku didn't care. His mind had moved to other things, and he could walk with the gait of a Jedi Knight, offering his services; rather than a Padawan who was instructed to do so.

When they paused, Yoda climbed down easily, taking a seat across from him on one of the round meditation chairs in a private chamber. "Difficult, this mission will be." He started, and Dooku could feel the force humming between them. "And long. Hard it will be, on your apprentice."

"Qui-Gon is powerful—"

"Strong in the living force, Qui-Gon is." Yoda said, waving his arm. "Very faint with the living force, this place is. Death, war, destruction, famine; these are what you will find. Not the living."

"With all due respect then master, is it wise to send Qui-Gon to this place? Perhaps another team…" He hated to say that, it burned against his tongue. He knew he was the best the order would have, he would prove that. But if they failed at this mission; if something happened to Qui-Gon…there might be better moments to prove himself.

"Require your specific talents, the mission does. Take a team of Jedi it will; and there have been threats of a lightsaber wielder on this planet. Skilled, you are. Able to defend against him, you will be." Yoda paused and let that sink into his thoughts. "Agreed the council has, that you and your apprentice will best for the mission. Restore peace to the planet and defeat this foe."

"Thank you for your confidence, Master Yoda." His reservations were gone. "When will we be leaving?"

"In two days time." The little Master answered, his large eyes narrowed in thought. "Take a long time, this mission may. Little help will you have."

"I understand, of course." He had been on long missions before. While Yoda had been a steady presence at the temple, he and Dooku had gone on numerous missions throughout the galaxy that had spanned months of Coruscant time. Yoda continued to regard him, and Dooku began to get the haunting feeling that his old Master could sense something that he could not. But he was Knight now, and it was none of Yoda's business how he conducted himself, as long as it was within the realm of the Code. "I thank you for your time, Master. I'll be going then."

And still, even as he turned and vanished out of the small room, he could feel those eyes follow him and the steady pulse of their bond at his side.

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"Master Dooku, I thought you had a private session with the council today." Jocasta had been standing, bent over a datascreen, reading and flicking it through it faster than any human Dooku had ever witnessed. Her hair was pulled back in her usual tight bun; she was wearing plain set of tunics, not her usual dress. He blinked at her, before realizing she had added his title as a nicety since they were not alone in the archives this time.

"It was a private meeting with Master Yoda, Madam." He explained, and a young student who was at a computer looked up at him in awe. Most Jedi did not have private meetings with Master Yoda, he was well aware. "I was wondering if I might speak with you."

"Of course." She nodded at a small, dark-skinned human male. "Mace, take these items and shelve them please. I will come back through later." The serious looking boy nodded at her, taking the books in his arms. He was several years younger than Qui-Gon, just moving into advanced initiate duty; yet Dooku could feel the force pulsing strongly form him. The boy would be a powerful Jedi, he thought, certainly one to watch.

He followed behind her to her small work area, shielded from the rest of the archives. He was silent for a moment, simply watching her. He had not truly been able to speak with her since their encounter three nights before, he found himself pulled to her again; thinking of the feeling of holding her. Kissing her in the darkness of the library.

"For a quiet man, Dooku; you are not particularly good at hiding what you are thinking." He blinked, noticing that she noticed him staring, and felt a faint blush come to his cheeks.

"Yes, well…" He was not one to lose his words easily, but now instead, he took a step towards her. Ignoring his compulsion (he couldn't very well kiss her here in the daylight), he simply pressed his fingers to her arm, watching as she shifted slightly until their fingers came together at the edge of the desk. This small touch, the only outward sign of intimacy between them, was extraordinary. He almost lost thought of what he was going to say.

"You are leaving." She said softly. "I could see it in your face when you came in."

"Hopefully not for long." He answered, brushing his thumb across her knuckles, where she moved to entwine their fingers. "But I thought I should tell you."

"I am worried." He wanted to reassure her, but from the way she was staring at their connected hands, he had a feeling it was not simply concern for his safety. "About all of this."

"You are important to me, Jocasta." He said again, glancing behind him to make sure there were no Jedi hovering near the doorway, waiting for assistance. "And we have done nothing wrong."

"I am not so sure." She replied, and her clear blue eyes met his, a garish resonance present in them. "Are we not defying the code?"

"No." He answered resolutely. And in his mind, they were not. They were simply beings. Beings were allowed to feel, to have these connections. Their being Jedi should not be a restriction. He felt no backlash through the force, only a gentle urging to see her again. To kiss her again. "No." He said again, before sighing. "I have meditated on this, there is no resistance in the force, Jocasta."

She was silent for a long time, looking at him, blinking slowly. "I am thinking what I would do if you were to be lost on a mission. I can't answer that." She finally admitted, and it seemed as though a great relief had been lifted from her, only to have a confusion take its place. "Though I suppose," And she laughed softly. "If this place is as dangerous as they say, I may know shortly."

She was trying to give humor to the situation, but there was little in her voice. Only sadness. Only the potential for grief. But he smiled at her regardless. "I will return. More experienced, perhaps; but mostly the same." He said.

"I have faith in your abilities, Dooku." She said. "I know of your skills. It is unreasonable to worry, and yet I do." She added something so softly he couldn't exactly hear it. He thought it might be, "That is why I worry," But he didn't push her.

"We can talk more when Qui-Gon and I return." He answered and she pulled her hand back. He turned to leave, knowing that he needed to go and speak with Qui—Gon immediately. But he stopped again and twisted on his heel. He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. One that might have passed as one between friends. Maybe.

If he hadn't felt his own body buzz at the connection between them. And he hadn't seen a glimpse of her fingers move up to brush the spot along her cheek.


	8. Chapter 8

Yoda had been right. This place was Hell. All of his clothes had holes burned in them, or were torn to expose his skin to the ash and fire and smog they had been surrounded by. It was only through severe determination that he and Qui-Gon had not already left; he would not leave this unfinished, but he had to wonder at the cost.

There had been nights when the glint of humor he could still catch from Qui-Gon, who still had managed to hum with the living force, had been what had pushed them through until morning. Then the firebombing of civilians had started; they had pulled burned children and innocent people from debris that was all that remained of their homes. The light in Qui-Gon had dimmed, his face was more fixed in a hard mask. Dooku had found him meditating the night before, on an outcropping from the cave they were staying in.

He had simply watched him, not wishing to disturb any peace the boy might finally have found. "Master," He had said softly. "Why does the Order allow for such things?" And he had not had a real answer. Only the one he had always been instructed to give. The Order didn't condone these things. They had sent them. But he saw the boy's doubt clearly; they had managed to accomplish very little. If the Order truly meant to stop this, wouldn't they have sent more help?

Since then, Qui-Gon had been exceptionally quiet. The same was for now; they were heading in disguise into the heart of the city. They were wearing the dark gear off two of the dictator regime's soldiers they had found dead in the street. Once, his apprentice might have been horrified at the thought of such, but now the boy only moved in quiet, abandoning his own burned and blood soaked clothes in the dirt without a final word.

They reached the palace only thanks to a blessing of the force, avoiding three military convoys by mere moments, dodging around soldiers, incapacitating one man before he could alert others to their arrival. They had set the plan in rudimentary motion the night before, to seize the Dictator or control of his operations meant at least a cease-fire for Boromir. Failing to do so meant they would join the hundreds that had died by public execution.

Qui-Gon, as tall as he was now at only fifteen, walked strongly next to him. They moved, not with the gait of Jedi, but the gait of hardened soldiers, and were not questioned. Then there was hand on Dooku's shoulder. He resisted the instant urge to flip the perpetrator over his shoulder and run through the palace to the conditional freedom outside; but instead he simply paused, probing the man's mind with the force.

"Is there a problem, Captain?" He asked, staying turned away.

"A small one." The man snarled. Dooku could feel his confusion more than his anger rolling off of him. "You were reported dead two days ago." He felt a surge in the force, Qui-Gon was reacting, having moved ahead of them, but now was turned to the man who was tightening his grip on Dooku. His apprentice waved his hand, and he felt the hand loosen.

"You have mistaken him for someone else." Qui-Gon said firmly.

"I have mistaken him for someone else." The guard repeated slowly.

"You will release him and tell no one about this."

"I will release him and tell no one about this."

"You will forget this meeting after we are gone."

"I will forget this meeting after you are gone." And with that, the hand dropped from his shoulder, and Dooku glanced to see the man looking at the two of them dazedly. They stepped forward, moving towards the turbo-lifts, where Dooku only spoke after the black door had slid shut behind them.

"Excellent use of affect mind, Qui-Gon." He straightened his uniform. His small praise earned him the first small smile he had seen from Qui-Gon since the bombings. It was just as well, they had business to attend to.

The scene the lift opened up on was one that made him want to cringe uncomfortably. He had expected this part of the palace to be only para-military personnel. Instead, the room they opened up to was full off people and couches and beds, almost all of them occupied. There were pleasure slaves, both male and female, in a variety of humanoid species. There were military members, entwined with the beings on couches and beds. He could feel Qui-Gon's reaction, the boy was somewhat stricken, though he was happy he had managed to avoid showing it. At the end of the hall, past all of the debauchery going on, was a short man, humanoid with thinning black hair and a pointed moustache. He was lounged haphazardly over a chair; a woman, dressed in fine clothing on his right, another, clearly a slave by her tattered clothes, on his left. The Dictator, taking in this seen with what seemed to be only mild interest.

Dooku wanted to curl his lips: the Order disapproved of slavery, he despised it. There could be so much potential, strength, labor, intelligence in these slaves, that would never be realized. One mission as a younger man, he had been forced to take the role as a guard to a group of slaves; never would he forget the sort of pain they had endured. Pain he had been forced to allow and support so as not to blow his cover. And to leave them behind when peace was realized. He was surprised by that vivid memory; but the Jedi Order had eventually promoted peace. To have so few in suffering must have been worth the trade of so many being allowed to live. Perhaps peace had also served justice.

"General. Lieutenant." He spoke almost softly, his voice a deep baritone that resonated through the chamber. Only a split second of silence followed, where Dooku felt stares. He gathered the force around them, the others would see them; but their gazes would not linger. He hoped it would be enough to avoid detection. "Take a moment to enjoy yourselves."

One of the women latched on to Dooku's arm, but he shrugged her off. A man took her place, but he shrugged him off as well. "You refuse my hospitality, General Koff? You have been working hard, I would think that there would not be a problem." Dooku sent up silent thanks that he had donned the General's uniform rather than Qui-Gon. His Padawan was talented, but he was only fifteen.

"I actually wondered if we might have a word in private, your Lordship?" He spoke firmly, not sparing a glance at Qui-Gon who was having a fair bit of trouble in detaching a woman from his arm.

"But of course." The small man smirked. "Join me in my chamber; I always have time for my High General." Dooku sent a silent message to Qui-Gon to stay put, even as the younger Jedi was being pulled away. He stepped forward, following the man. The woman stepped between them. "It is of no concern, Miana; I will be fine." She reluctantly stepped back, extending a hand for Dooku to follow the man. He spared her a short bow, one that she did not acknowledge with anything other than a harsh stare.

"I am surprised you have come to see me, General Koff." The man said, as the door to the chamber closed heavily behind them. Dooku felt an unpleasant pricking at his side, but shook it off, deciding that it was hopefully Qui-Gon, learning to deal with the women outside.

"I always take time to report on important business, your Lordship." He said slowly, moving his hand to his lightsaber hilt, hidden in the jacket of his clothes.

"I do take the time to keep up with the dealings of this war and rebellion." The Dictator spoke. Dooku moved to respond, but the small man raised a hand, decorated with a set of black rings and two wires that split between his fingers. "Thus my surprise."

"I'm afraid I don't understand." He thought through what he knew of this man. Formerly an elected official, J. Arnock; never spectacular at anything other than lying and speaking. His revolution had started silent, then his seizure of the military had led to three days of violence and torment. The execution of the other elected leaders. The death of his own brother who had been serving on the other side of the planet as a liaison to a group of sentients. It was a group of rebels who had called for Jedi help. Two days later, the sender of their message had been slaughtered as well, in a public execution at the square.

"For the past three months, I have received reports of two renegades interfering with my business. Saving civilians, diffusing my bombs, moving whole squadrons to support the rebel forces." Dooku felt a surge in the dark side of the force now, they were not alone in this room. "I send General Koff to eliminate them. That was his sole mission."

"Sir, I…" Dooku tried desperately, reaching out with the force, but something was interfering with his abilities.

"And only this morning, I received a report of General Koff's death." He withdrew his lightsaber from his jacket. He supposed there was no point in hiding it now. "And since you're one of the two destroying my perfect plan for this godforsaken world, you can die with the rest of those filthy rebels you've been helping. And don't worry about your friend, when the time comes, my guards will find them." At least they didn't know about Qui-Gon. Dooku didn't consider them to be particularly close beyond at typical master/Padawan bond, but they had been growing closer as the boy matured, and he couldn't stomach the thought of him being killed.

"This fight will not be easy. I am on a mission from the Galactic Republic…" But his words were only met with a laugh. He didn't like being interrupted.

"I have no time for your inexplicable defense, Rebel. Only your death." He waved his arm, and from the shadows came a hulking figure, cloaked, with a crimped hood that hid their face. The being was strong in the dark-side of the force, in his hands was a bastardization of a double-bladed saber. Arnock moved, not far, but enough to be out of the way of the two of them. The being was silent, and when he ignited the twin blades, they were not the blue or green or purple of the Jedi or even the red of the Sith. They were black blades, fashioned in the shape of old sword blades.

The first swing came for his head, and he ducked it easily. He sent out a force call to Qui-Gon, hoping the boy would take the initiative and run; when this fight was over, he would have to find him. The man came back around with another swing, and Dooku could feel the amusement emanating from Arnock. He had not ignited his lightsaber. This man thought him a common Rebel, perhaps their might be an advantage in keeping it that way.

He somersaulted, to avoid the spinning blades. This being, what he could now tell was a male, was strong, but not particularly quick. Havign two blades, however, was clearly something he used to his advantage. Dooku let the force flow through him, telling him when to dodge in quick sidesteps, and when to leap over the whole of the blade altogether. But he was being backed into a corner; and was left with no choice.

Left hand behind his back, curved hilt in his right, he blocked a strong blow. The force of it reverberated through his arm, but now he could go on the offensive. He spun and twirled, blocking and striking at the man who started to lumber backwards. This being had the force, his connection was strong enough to allow him to wield a saber without injury; but his focus was weak. He was not trained beyond that. Intimidating, perhaps, to all but a Jedi.

He spun, and kicked; feeling the being wear down; but in truth, he was tiring also. He couldn't fight forever, and started looking for a way to finish this. He felt a flicker, a whisper in the back of his mind, and took a step backwards as a blaster bolt blew past where his head had been moments before.

Without turning, he could feel the blaster outstretched in Arnock's hand, unable to focus on it as the black saber threatened to cleave him in half. Another blaster bolt whizzed by, watching the end of the ornate cape he was wearing as part of his disguise. If he had allowed it to overwhelm him, it would have been easy to feel the panic settling in on him, eventually, a bolt of blade would catch him. He could not keep both at bay forever.

He swung harder, pushing the man back, deflecting a bolt and moving to parry a blow in the same motion. "Master!" He heard the cry over the blood rushing to his ears, heard another shot, but no threat came from it. Then no more blaster, no more gun; only the blade. He pressed, full offense; forcing the larger man back against the bed frame that shook with his weight. He kicked out hard, catching the lightsaber blade which snapped off and spun upwards. In a single gesture, he cleaved the blade in half and pierced through the chest of the being, any howl of pain being cut short by a merciful death.

He stopped, retracted his blade. He was breathing hard, his pulse racing, blood pounding. He realized how sore his limbs were from all of their work over the past months. How little rest he had all came to him at once. But he could only take seconds for himself, this was not over. He whipped around, and the sight that greeted him was not what he had expected at all. Or wanted. Or thought would ever happen.

"Master, I didn't mean to…he was going to shoot you. I could feel it." Qui-Gon was on his knees on the floor. The blaster lay in two soldered pieces on the hard floor, next to it lay Arnock, orchestrator of all of this carnage; a hole through his chest. No life came from this man, the force had left him. Qui-Gon was not crying, but Dooku suspected if it had not been for the last months, especially the last days of carnage, that he would have been. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, realizing again that he was still only a boy in truth. Now a boy who had seen far more than he had when they had first arrived to a world on the brink of oblivion.

"It is done, Qui-Gon." He said calmly, letting his breath even out. "It is never easy to see a being die, but sometimes a death is necessary for peace. His death will mean the liberation of thousands."

But as they stood, even as Qui-Gon nodded, he could feel the seeds of doubt grow in the boy's mind. Doubts that he, though never vocally, could share.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
A week later, and Dooku was glad they could finally return to the temple. They had an escort, piloting them so the wary Jedi could get some rest. Qui-Gon was already asleep, having collapsed onto the first piece of furniture offered to him, and stayed there. Dooku had moved to the small cabin provided for him, but had been unable to rest. This mission had been terrible, in almost every way. The only positives he could see were that the killing had now stopped, and a true government had been implemented. The people of Boromir could start rebuilding.

Qui-Gon was changed. Though the shock of taking another being's life had faded, the questioning lull had not gone on the wayside. He was quieter, though Dooku hoped that meditation and their return to the temple might help. Dooku himself felt changed. It was almost odd to be returning, very strange. Which, he supposed, was why he could not sleep.

They had almost been killed, several times on this mission. He considered that perhaps he was simply in need of comfort. Some sort of reassurance that the Jedi Order was the same as it always had been; that the world he had left behind was still intact. When he allowed them, his thoughts had gone to her, to their parting, their kiss. He wanted to speak with her, to see her again. Three more days aboard this ship seemed like an eternity, and in the end, though he knew it would be late on Coruscant, he commed her in a moment of decisiveness.

Her tiny blue form appeared over his comlink, and for the first time it what felt now like a lifetime, he gave a very genuine smile. "Jocasta?"


	9. Chapter 9

Their tea cups were abandoned on her coffee table; they were moving steadily closer to each other on the couch as he spun stories of what had happened. Unburdened himself of all that had happened over the three months. All the death, all the change all the loss. She knew that rather than meditate as his apprentice was doing, or drinking his worries away in a lower level bar as many of the Knights and Masters did; he had come to her deliberately. She could feel the force bond that emanated between them, pulsing again now that he had returned.

She had thought, perhaps, that there three months apart, with only his minimal reports made to the council would have quelled this desire for the other's company. It seemed instead to have whetted a need that she didn't know she had exactly, until given the opportunity to satisfy it. When he had commed her directly, three nights before, she had not been expecting his call. But she couldn't ignore, and now she couldn't help but remember the small thrill that had shot through her at seeing him. Memories she had kept at bay, of his kiss, of his departure, were pushing themselves forcibly to her memory.

"What about you, Jocasta?" He said finally, and she could feel his hand against her own, barely touching the skin with the tips of his fingers. "I apologize for speaking of myself so much."

"I'm leaving shortly for an archeological mission. I am yet to know who's accompanying me. Several initiates were apprenticed officially." She looked up into his face, surprised to see a small smile across his serious features. It was the first, other than when she had opened the door to let him in, that seemed genuine. An odd thing considering all she had given were mundane facts about rather ordinary life. "It is much the same as it was."

He was silent for a long moment, where he closed his eyes and ran his hands down his face, seeming to collect his thoughts. She waited, but still he said nothing. "Is something bothering you, Dooku?" Moving on instinct, she inched close to him, pressing a hand to his arm. He looked at it, blinking. "I am sorry for your mission." She moved slightly closer, arm going to his shoulder. She could feel his heart rate change slightly, thrumming a bit faster against his the pulse point on his throat. "It is hard, even for a Jedi, to deal with that much pain." She didn't dare move any closer, though now she could feel his leg against hers, with no indication that he wanted or planned to pull away. "That you have come through it shows the mark of a bravery. Of a Knight"

She reached her hand up again and gently stroked his bearded cheek with the back of her fingers. All of her inhibitions were disappearing. The mission he had described was hell; the force was nudging her gently towards him. Even if it was not going to lead to any kind of romantic action, it was pushing them together. Perhaps only for their own comfort. He seemed to lean into her touch, pressing his cheek more against her fingers, his eyes closed for a brief moment. She felt the force surge around them, emanating from him, from her. It was impossible to tell the difference in that moment.

"I have missed you." He whispered softly to her, before his hand cupped her jaw, his thumb tracing the sharp cut of it before he pressed his lips to hers briefly. He pulled back, as if waiting to see if that was what she wanted as well.

"I have missed you as well." She had heard, and read, and seen that absence makes the heart grow fonder. She had not believed such things. For how could distance strengthen a bond between two people? But now she understood. It was not their proximity that united them, simply their connection, already established They could share their experiences, their lives apart, and come together in a way that would not have been the same should they have been around each other constantly. She had known other men, none on this level, none for this length of time and interest. This bond with him was more than a passing fixation.

She twisted her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, tugging him closer again. Their force signatures pulsed together, she wrapped her arm around him. The time for speaking was over, what had been three months of repression, anger, sadness, guilt, loss, fury, turmoil, and disconnect now spilled over into their kiss. He deepened it, exploring her mouth gently but insistently. She let him, pressing closer to him, moving their position on the couch so they would be more comfortable.

She ran hands through his hair, along his back, finding small wounds and tracing them in the dark. When they broke apart, he pressed his forehead to hers, both breathing heavily. His dark brown eyes were finally warm, as she had thought they might be on the first day she saw him. "I'm sorry…" He panted, "I simply…Jocasta, I only…"

But she didn't want an explanation. She wanted this connection. Wanted him. The living force was moving around them almost in a circle, twisting them together and seemingly encasing them. All of those struggles he had described seemed to be evaporating into the force. Much more rapidly than meditation. "Do not be sorry for this, Dooku." There was that small smile again, so true yet a hint unattainable. She closed the space between them again, pressing another kiss to his lips.

Time passed, two kisses turned into a dozen. She could feel his body pressed squarely against hers, his arms weaving through her hair, splayed on her back, grasping at her hips and pulling her tight to him. If he was moving on intent, there was no indication, but either way, she found her legs wrapping around his waist, his weight beginning to bear them down into the couch cushions. She smiled against his lips, the familiar knot of physical desire, now coupled with some strong emotion, coming to light in her body.

But as soon as it was present, he pulled back from her, his hair unkempt, the top of his tunic jerked in opposite directions that she realized she had done unconsciously. He was breathing heavily, his face red, pupils dilated, hovering over her slightly. He jerked upwards, her legs slipping from his waist, and stood all in one motion.

"Thank you for a lovely evening." He said hurriedly, trying to fix his tunic back the way it was. "I should be going." He avoided looking at her, taking a step past her, trying to calm himself. She could feel the panic settling in on his force signature. She sat up and reached for him, just as she had the first night they kissed, her fingertips caught the cusp of his sleeve.

"Do you want to leave, Dooku?" She asked, wishing this was more confusing. But she understood, as he did, what this could mean. And they had not discussed this, they had not reasoned through this decision, this behavior.

"No." To her surprise, he looked back at her, his eyes soft, regretful. "But I know I must." A long, lingering glance later and he was stepping away from her, towards the door. "I will see you tomorrow, Jocasta."

And she was left, watching the back of the door. Feeling the settling of her force signature, the taste of mint tea still strong in her mouth.


	10. Chapter 10

He paced around his bedroom. Little had changed in his decorative tastes since he was a Padawan, a tall bookshelf full of holobooks was fastened to the wall, glowing faintly blue in the darkness; few personal affects decorated the walls; his desk was perfectly organized, the only odd touch a green rock that gave of ethereal glow that he had collected on a mission as a Padawan. He thought there might soon be a hole worn in his footpath though, he had walked along it so much.   
He had spent the day in and out of the Council chambers, debriefing the last of their information. Qui-Gon had accompanied him on most, but there had been a few had done alone. He had so recently shared the evening meal with his Padawan who had since retired. The boy was exhausted, he could use a couple days rest; he had spent his time where he wasn’t debriefing in various mediation rooms, alone and recuperating. 

He and Jocasta had made plans to meet shortly, and he couldn’t deny wanting to see her again. But after their encounter the night before…he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. He knew on principle, the Order did not mandate celibacy, only encouraged it. They could choose this path if they wanted, physical relations between Jedi were not unheard of; especially among Padawans of age. But he knew himself better than that. If he only wanted her for that, then he would go to her with no qualms perhaps. Though he had to consider he had never pursued a physical relationship with another woman; he had found them beautiful, attractive even, but never had he pursued those interests. Only her, with her intelligence, her brevity, her power; their connection through the force gave him a new feeling of life he had never felt before. It was an extension of the living force, powerful enough that since he had been separated from her the night before, it seemed to be moving them back together. 

He was a Jedi. He had trained against these sort of feelings, he knew that he could restrain himself. Never see her again except for necessity. And he knew in a small part of him that he could do those things. But there was a larger part, much more dominant, much more intense, that told himself he could overcome it. He could have this with her, every kind of whatever they ended up being together, and still be the best of the Jedi. It would make him stronger, more powerful. The force was condoning it; who was the Council to deny it?

He swung the door to his room open, startling Qui-Gon who was standing in his sleep pants in their kitchen, getting a glass of water. He said nothing to him, only gave him a brief smile, spurred on by some wild intensity that he had not allowed himself to feel since being chosen as a Padawan. He shut the door of the apartment behind him; moving into the darkening, but still livened hallways of the temple. He passed other Jedi, noting that his stride was almost bounding, even more so that his usual gait. He knocked on her door. 

But when it opened, the enthusiasm inside him halted suddenly. He saw her face, and in the place of enthusiasm came an impulse to move into the room. To wrap his arms around her. To kiss her again. To tell her every single thing that had ever passed through his head. To put his head on her shoulder on her couch and let her tell him about everything she wanted to talk about. To hear her voice. To feel her body. To know her mind. To have her heart. Instead, he simply looked at her. Her eyes, that seemed to be carving holes into him, seemed to be only full of questions. 

She stepped aside, no words said between them. He followed her into the apartment. The door slid shut again, and he turned to face her, trying to quell all of these things; but instead, let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in as she stood still, reflecting all of his own thoughts back to him. “I am leaving in a week. On an archaeological mission.”

“I know.” He said. And he felt that they were on the edge of the conversation they should be having. Simply communicating as friends. As Jedi. “I saw it in the registry for the Council.”

“I was going to ask you to accompany me, you and Qui-Gon of course.” He said nothing, only blinked at her in surprise. “If you do not wish to go, of course, I understand…” But he took a step closer to her, her words stopping in her mouth before she could speak them fully. 

“Of course I would like to accompany you, Jocasta.” He thought about extending a hand to her, closing the gap between them, but didn’t know what she might do. She was becoming more difficult to read, and he thought about his abrupt departure the night before. Perhaps she was simply keeping her distance. 

“I thought it might be a nice break for the pair of you.” She added softly, and she reached her hand out to his hovering one, and as she had before he and Qui-Gon had left, she entwined their fingers together. “After everything.”

And this was the segue. He knew it. He felt the force again, wrapped around them; “I am sorry for leaving.” He said finally, unsure of what else to say. 

“You were called away on a mission, Dooku…”

“Not then.” He didn’t mean to interrupt her, but he couldn’t let himself be misconstrued. “Yesterday. I should not have left things like that. I apologize.” He had finished his sentence, but still a finger brushed lightly across his lips. 

“You were right to go. It was not the right time for that. We were not rational.” The hand traced back to his jaw, moving very lightly against the coarse hairs that lined it. He separated their fingers, his hand wrapping around her waist on impulse, pressing them together. 

“Implying that we are now?” He said, and he could feel his eloquence slipping from him, along with his control. 

“I think that time has passed,” She said, her cheek now pressed against his chest. “And we have made our decisions.”

“And what might yours be?” But he received now answer, not verbally. Only a small tug on the back of his neck, and a pair of lips on his own, the rest of the world: the missions, the Code, his mind, disappearing in the feel of her.


	11. Chapter 11

She was awake, but her eyes were still closed, something keeping her in that state of almost awake, when the night still exists simply because the morning has not been allowed to arrive. She conscious of what she could feel; a whole cocoon of warmth wrapped around her in the blankets of her bed, the soft fabric of sheets under her body, the rising and falling of the bed (which she had determined was not the bed at all), a strong arm around her waist.

She blinked slowly, the room still dark. Everyday, she rose just as dawn was coming over the great city, it was a habit she had formed all of her life in the temple, but now, instead of the compulsion to move and begin getting ready for the day, she stayed still. She had no desire to shift from this spot, and even more so, she had no desire to wake the man who was still asleep beside her.

Her head rested on Dooku's chest, which moved up and down slowly in time with the deep breaths he was taking. She leaned back, shifting back to lay her head on her pillow, leaving her leg entwined with his. He was peaceful in sleep, a lot to say for how the past few months had treated him. She trailed soft fingers over a thick white scar that seemed to cut all the way across the plane of his chest, some old injury that it pained her to thick of the origins of. He had other scars as well, smaller, some of them new from his last missions, others almost disappeared with age from his time as a young Padawan.

His serious face was at last fully relaxed, and she smiled at the memory of his smiles at her the night before as his hands traced over her skin and held her in tight embraces. She smiled at the thought of the gentle words he had almost whispered to her as they were falling asleep, at the sentiments as he pressed another kiss to her cheek before falling asleep with an arm wrapped around her.

She closed her eyes again, letting thin, watery light seep in under the curtains, lighting the room naturally. She wasn't sure of his sleep cycle, not wanting to wake him too early, especially when he had had so little time to rest. Instead, she pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, deciding that if she was going to be late to the archives, today would be the day for it.

She had just settled, her eyes closed again, a hand pressed against his chest, when she felt him move. He turned, her eyes watching him with a small smile, to face her, his chest pressing against hers, his arm sliding further around her waist. He blinks at her, and she takes in his face now that he is awake. His hair, and she remembered running her fingers through it, twisting the ends of it in her hands, feeling it pressed against her cheek as he kissed her neck, is ruffled from its usual stagnant place. His eyes, still dark, are warm with life. With what she thinks might be affection. With perhaps something even stronger. She knows it in fact, he said it to her the night before while they were in the throes of passion, but now that it is morning, she thinks it might have been a product of the moment and her Jedi mentality has come back to her in full force.

"Good morning," She said softly, as if that might break the spell they seem to be under. She trials gentle fingers against the corner of his eye, and he closes his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her wrist.

"Indeed." He finally says, and suddenly flips them to where he face is hovering over his, her hair tickling at the edge of his face. He grins up at her, actually grins, sliding hands over her sides and back before curling long fingers on her hips. She shudders slightly, turning it into a slight brush against him, every memory of the night before coursing through her. "It was a good night as well."

She was suddenly very conscious of the fact that neither of them have clothes on, that she was a burning to do this again, her body was yearning for him again; but she had obligations for the day. But first, she leaned down to kiss him, a hand running through her hair as he pulled her close.

She pulled back, holding herself above him and moved to get out of the bed. He held her wrist for a moment, letting the blanket fall off of them as he sat up, watching her as she stood. "Do you have to leave?"

"The Order awaits." She said, and his grip on her loosened, but she felt his eyes follow her as she went to the Refresher. She wouldn't have time for a shower, but a slight freshening up would have to be enough. When she was finished, she could hear him shuffling around in her room, quietly, and she stepped out in her robe to find him clothed everywhere below the waist, including his boots. She took a moment to look over his body again, seeing all of the scars from years of combat that were covered by his thin layer of black hair on his chest and down his stomach.

"Are you alright, Jocasta?" How many times had he said her name last night? How many whispers, groans had it blended with? She smiled at thought, but she could feel genuine concern coming from him, not her intention on this morning at all. She stepped to him, relieved to see him match her step for step, his tunic forgotten for a moment on the bed. She laced her fingers with his, letting them dangle together at the side of where they were pressed together.

"I am more than alright." She said, lifting a hand to stroke his back as he looped an arm around her waist. "Why don't we have dinner tonight, Dooku?" She ran three fingers along his spine as she spoke, enjoying the small shudder that ran through her and the thrill that shot through her at the gesture.

"I have promised Qui-Gon we might eat tonight." His eyes trailed from hers to her neck, then down to the dip of her robe before he met hers again with a small blush. "Why don't you join us?"

"I expect you to cook something excellent." And she stepped back from him, going to the wardrobe to choose her outfit for the day, a plain ensemble reminiscent of every other member of the order. He had smiled at her teasing. She heard him shuffling around again, collecting his discarded belt and tying his tunic. When she glanced back, now the light of dawn giving the whole of the room a faint glow, he seemed almost an ethereal picture of what he had been last night; and she wondered how much they were really changed from this. Closer perhaps.

He smiled at her, before turning to leave and allow her to get herself ready for the day. "Dooku," She called after him, and he turned, eyebrows raised, his expression already going back to its normal, intense state. "You might want to consider fixing your hair."

He flashed her a smile, running a hand through it to push his hair off of his forehead as he stepped out in the hallway, the door shutting softly behind his back.


	12. Chapter 12

"Did you have a good night, Master?" Dooku had been startled to walk into the apartment and find Qui-Gon there, a holo-book in his hand. "You look well rested."

"Why aren't you in class, Padawan?" He hadn't meant to be so abrupt, but he wasn't much in for discussing the details of his evening yet, and he needed to shower.

"I went to class this morning, but was dismissed to help prepare for our upcoming archeological mission with Madame Nu." He answered promptly, holding up the book for Dooku to examine. It was a language he vaguely recognized, and he shook his head in consent. He regarded Qui-Gon for a moment. The boy was changed after their mission.

"I've been thinking of what you said about diplomacy, Master." He said slowly, seeming to try and instigate conversation between himself and his master.

"And what have you decided?" The boy moved to sit on a stool. Dooku was amazed that he didn't seem to be more concerned with the night disappearance of his master; he didn't seem bothered at all that Dooku had been gone, and he decided that perhaps Qui-Gon had simply thought he was meditating or something of that nature. He kept his thoughts away from delving too deeply into his previous night's experiences, to explain those emotions would be troubling. He remembered as a Padawan, when he had begun to experience sexual urges, and Yoda, being of a different species, had sent him to speak with one of the Jedi healers. He and Qui-Gon were both human, he was expected to inform him of these things, and the time was coming, but he didn't know how he would present that after the night before. There was too much at risk.

"I considered what you said about the Council, and have decided that to an extent, you're right master. They have the most say in what we do, but it is also up to us as individuals to challenge that line of thinking sometimes."

"This is to say little for diplomacy, Qui-Gon."

"I apologize, Master. I was getting to my point." The boy's eyes met his own, deep in thoughts. Since they had returned, he was fraught again with the living force, it seemed almost to enshroud him fully. Dooku had to admit that he could not think of a time he had ever felt a single connection that strongly. Perhaps last night, but that had been shared with another being, another Jedi. "But after our mission to Boromir, I have decided that diplomacy must be the solution we seek as Jedi. I plan to pursue it, be through my own abilities in combat, guidance through the force, or through speaking itself."

"Perhaps, Qui-Gon, you should consider taking a Padawan of your own who can do the speaking bit for you." He smiled to let the boy know he was only joking, but to his surprise, his Padawan nodded.

"I agree. It would be better to work as a team, I think. Have a Padawan and Master with shared skills, not those that are all the same." He gave his Master a half-smile, opening his book to begin reading. "I am sorry, Master, for inquiring about your private business. I am only glad you are feeling better."

Dooku wasn't quite sure what to say at this point. Qui-Gon had hardly spoken for days, and now seemed unable to contain even the simplest thoughts that were going through his head. He was feeding from the energy of the temple, the living feeling of being so surrounded by his brother and sisters in the force. It was reassuring, for certain, but also quite strange to return to after a night of unexpected events.

"I am glad you are as well, Qui-Gon." He answered finally. "I'm going to bathe and possibly read for a while. If oy need anything, don't hesitate to come and get me." He turned and walked to his half of their apartment, leaving his boots by his bedroom door. "Madame Nu will be joining us for dinner as well."

Qui-Gon nodded, and it may have just been his imagination, but it did not seem like his apprentice found this to be particularly surprising information.

* * *

A shower had provided the last punch that had drawn the last bit of the mission on Boromir out of him. The last kinks and aches in his muscles disappeared in the torrent of hot water that her let rush over his back, the pleasant feeling mingling with the aftermath of still lingering sensations from the night before. He had never felt quite so refreshed and could feel the healing stemming from his connection to the living force moving happily through his blood.

He had taken a hour for restive meditation afterwards, and at Qui-Gon's meditation, had ventured into the small market in the mid-levels below the temple for some food. Their stores were empty, having been cleared out during their three month mission; and he had been quite sure he could cook nothing, impressive or otherwise.

Dinner had gone well as well; the soup and sandwich combination he had managed to make was delicious; even Qui-Gon, who had started to feel comfortable giving him a hard time about his cooking, had admitted it was nice. His Padawan was becoming more perceptive, though to Dooku's relief, he had not seemed to notice anything between himself and Jocasta. He had been entertaining, but had now departed for some off corner of the hallway, having an appointment to reunite with a friend, another Padawan Dooku thought might be named Tahl.

Which had left him and Jocasta alone again, and he could tell the air between them was charged with a strange sort of energy. He would be lying to himself if he said she hadn't been dwelling in his thoughts for most of the day. And now, alone in his apartment, there was no pretense of miscommunication between them. Sharing two glasses of wine between them, reminiscent of the flavor they had shared on their dinner together, she was wrapped in his arms, him bearing her down into the cushions, all too aware of what they could have had several nights ago if he hadn't left. But the time had been more right the night before, but rather than satisfy a need, it had whetted a sharp appetite he hadn't known existed; one both physical, where images of her bare skin pressed so close and warm to his own, but also temporal, where their force connections were moving him to an almost new plane of understanding.

He understood why it might be difficult for Jedi Masters to indulge in physical relationships with one another; this feeling of almost whole connectedness could be addicting, even now it was almost pulsating. He was starting to be captivated by her hands, running through his hair, pulling apart the two panels of his dark colored tunic; breathing in the comforting scent of her hair and skin. "He should be back soon."

He waited a moment, unsure if she wanted to continue, or stop; trying to figure out his next move. Then a hand slid down the front of him, baring his chest and stomach to her fingers, eliciting an involuntary groan from him. He stood, wishing for the first time that he and Qui-Gon had the foresight to get a rug so that perhaps the floor wouldn't be so cold on his feet.

She moved to follow him up; but he beat her to the punch, sliding a hand under the crook of her legs and another under her raised back, lifting her into another kiss. "My bedroom isn't the most exciting, Jocasta." Rapidly becoming his favorite thing to do was say her name; watch her react to it, pull him closer like it was some intimate causation between them. "I apologize."

"I'm not worried much about the room, Dooku." She replied with a smile, trailing fingers over his face as he carried her into his room, letting the door shut behind them. He sat her gently on the bed, the only real light in the room the rapidly dimming haze from his small, one-way window, and the faint green glow from the rock on his desk. He personally thought it gave her a surreal glow, captivatingly attractive, highlighting the intelligence that glimmered behind her blue eyes.

She pushed the shirt from his shoulders, the first article clothing he had allowed to fall to the floor without being in a hamper or basket without caring. They continued, a rendition of the night before without all of the awkwardness of his being uncertain of what she might want. She was more experienced than he, but the thought didn't make him uncomfortable, he thought he might actually find it endearing, that he was worthy of her attentions.

Then, in the midst of all of it, where he had finally joined her on the bed, both in a full state of both arousal and being fully disrobed, he heard a voice. "Master?"

He couldn't not answer Qui-Gon, who sounded concerned. He pulled her, laughing, to his chest, where she buried the soft sounds in his skin. "Yes, Padawan?"

"Madame Nu left her boots here, should I take them to her?" That sent Jocasta into almost a fit against him, and he was having a hard time controlling himself as well.

"No, Qui-Gon, I'll return them in the morning." It was silent for a moment, and reached out, but could only sense the boy's confusion. Dooku couldn't exactly blame him, if he had assumed that his master had gone to bed to sleep, it was rather early to be doing so.

"Would you like to come and meditate, Master?" He offered, now standing rather close to the bedroom door; concern laced in his words.

"No, thank you, Padawan." He glanced down at the lithe from lying pressed against him. "I have quite enough to keep myself occupied in here."

"Al right, Master." The boy said, and Dooku heard him step away. "Since you are going to bed, I think I will go down to the archives for a while. Perhaps Madame Nu will be there and I can tell her about her boots."

"Goodnight, Padawan." By the time he heard the door softly shut as his Padawan left the apartment, the entire bed was shaking with repressed laughter, which he had to admit felt quite nice in this state of things.

"We will have to exercise far more subtlety from now on, Master Dooku." Now that she had regained the ability to speak, she was pressing soft kisses along his jaw, where he could feel the smile against his skin.

"We?" He asked, pulling back to look her in the eyes, flipping them over with a strong hand on her waist, his face hovering over hers. "I don't think I'm the one who left my boots for Qui-Gon to find." She laughed as he kissed her, and he smiled with the thought of what the coming week before they departed might bring; and what the following mission, spent in her increasingly present company, might mean for them.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also wrote M rated outtake to go between two of these chapters. Plan to post soon. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

She stepped forward, breathing in the clear air of Draxon, allowing the slight chill to roll over her skin, warm from the ship's interior. She heard Qui-Gon step out behind her, his boots crunching in the loose gravel of the landing platform. She had seen much of him in the past week, having shared many meals with both him and his master. The Padawan was warming up to her, more talkative now than he had been at first, and she admired his gentle manner in most things. Though now, he was taller than her, physically larger and far more imposing, he always gave her the space she required and allowed her and Dooku to be alone.

Dooku was convinced Qui-Gon knew nothing of their relationship, but she thought otherwise. The way his smile would sometimes curve as he would leave the room after dinner, or flash his master a look when the older man was turned away told her that the boy knew more than she thought, though she hoped not to the extent of what the truth was.

"This is a nice place. Much nicer than Boromir." There was still touch of fear in his voice, a slight tremble, but Qui-Gon was hiding it well. She reached out a hand to his arm, turning to watch as Dooku stepped from the ship, shouldering his pack and carrying on in each hand for either of them.

"We have received intelligence that there might be hostile groups on the planet. We've been advised to be cautious, there are some groups that might be violent." She had to smile at him; it was amusing to her now to see him act so formally, especially when she had spent every night of the last week with him, with her arms around him, hearing his heart beat and his breath quicken against her. To see him with his full gait of a Jedi master, the form he held with all except for her, was enough to make her laugh.

She bore the pack, knowing that the added weight work would make her produce enough heat that she won't need her jacket even though it's cool. She leads them in their trek, and Qui-Gon, rather than Dooku, falls into step beside her. He doesn't speak, and she simply enjoys the view for now, knowing that the majority of the trip will be spent in the dark of an old temple, collecting pieces to be droid delivered back to the ship. The council had raised its collective eyebrows at the need for a team of Jedi to accompany her, but had relented when she requested this pair, knowing that the taxing mission of Boromir had left them with a need for a bit of relief. With only a few rogue bands to worry about, they had agreed that this might be the perfect opportunity.

"What are we looking for, exactly, Madame Nu?" Qui-Gon asked respectfully, after a few long minutes of silent trekking.

"Our knowledge of this planet is more limited than some of the others. We are supposed to gather data on the sentients from an ancient temple that rests nearby." She explained, and could feel Dooku's eyes on her, a small smile coming to her face. She thought about the previous week, he had been insatiable, if not for a physical relationship, than at least for her presence at his side. She was careful to admit she felt the same, and even now, without being able to see him, she could feel the almost always present connection that burned between them.

"I'm surprised you admit there is something the archives do not contain." Qui-Gon seemed surprised at his master's teasing tone; narrowing his eyes confusedly, but not speaking.

"I know our limits as an Order, Master Dooku." She said pointedly, sparking Qui-Gon a small smile, "Even if others do not." She heard him snort, leaving his apprentice even more befuddled than before. Wanting to laugh, but not quite having the audacity. She noted that they probably needed to take more care to not be so obvious in front of him.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence, though it was not unpleasant. The planet, though cool, offered some protection from the wind in the form of trees. By the time they reached the temple and she needed her lightsaber for light, the soft blue hum an easy comfort inside of the dull rock.

"I'll set up the sleeping bags." Qui-Gon offered, venturing ahead to find a room still intact and large enough for all three of them to be stationed in. She suspicioned the boy wanted to give them a moment of privacy, which she was happy to take advantage of.

"We aren't doing anything wrong," He said, as soon as the boy disappeared. "We are within the boundaries of the code, though," he clipped his lightsaber back to his belt as she lit a nearby torch to provide them light. "We may want to practice a bit more discretion where Qui-Gon is concerned."

She supposed that constituted almost complete discrepancy on this particular mission, and she nodded in agreement with him, turning to follow Qui-Gon. The room was spacious, with decent ventilation. He had lid out their sleeping equipment and was busy setting up foodstuffs for dinner.

They ate dinner together, the light of glow rods and the torch she carried providing enough for them. Qui-Gon kept the conversation going with his almost endless questioning of the information they were retrieving and her own personal exploits over the past few years as an archivist. She was happy to speak with him, though his questions seemed to be droning on and on for Dooku, who rolled his eyes at some of them.

The planet finished it's rotation, the light outside only lit by the three moons and distant stars. "I'm going to go outside for a bit." Dooku rose from his seat on the floor, sparing a glance at her, perhaps an invitation to follow.

"I'm going to meditate before it's time for bed, Master." Qui-Gon replied, clearing away dishes. She stood as well, moving to follow Dooku into the broad expanse of the outdoor space, the wind now chilled enough to make her want to press closer to him. He was a constant warmth through the force, but very little could help her like his physical presence at her side could. They stood quietly for a moment, hands barely entwined as was their custom. She thought back on their week together, his confession of love their first night together, though he had not mentioned it since then. At first, it had filled her with a sort of reproachful fear; to know that would be to risk forming an undissolvable attachment, a great risk for them both. But now, when she thought of it, tied together with every memory of his touch, his words, his mind with hers, it gave her a simple strength and a small warmth inside of her. One she had to actively ignore.

"Do you hear that?" He asked suddenly, his muscles tensing. His lightsaber was in his hands, grasped firmly between his long fingers. She mirrored his movement, stepping the other way, listening hard. She could feel the tremors in the force, there were living things surrounding them. More than animals. These were, to the best of her estimation, humans.

"We should go inside. Warn Qui-Gon." But she felt Dooku reaching out with the force already, the message sure to get to his apprentice. "It is best we show them we mean no harm."

"Hello, there." He called, but all that could be heard were the quiet sounds of the night. "We are here on behalf of the Galactic Republic. We are not here to cause harm nor worry." Nothing happened for a long moment, there was silence, only the breeze blowing gently around them. She relaxed her muscles, perhaps they were only curious.

The force warned her a second before it happened, when she could see Dooku flip over her, landing gracefully on his feet as a chain, weighted on each side, spun where he would have bene standing moments before.

"Show yourselves. We wish only to talk!" She said, but sidestepped as another one came from the tree line. They were at a disadvantage, on foreign terrain, unknowing of the weapons, in the dark. They would have to rely on the force, which guided them in what looked like a strange dance as they dodged the chains.

Then, as soon as the chains seemed to stop, she raised her lightsaber just in time to split a dark down the center, the pieces hissing as they hit the ground. He was doing the same, maneuvering with an unnatural grace, even for a Jedi. "We have to get inside." He said harshly, beginning to back towards their shelter. The chains started again, coupled with the darts that seemed to be zooming by the dozens towards them. They worked in tandem, moving backwards, catching each other's lose darts as they came overhead.

"We don't seem so popular with the locals." She said, knowing that they would eventually draw them from the tree line. They were meters from the entry way, when she felt the panic emanate from Dooku.

"Master?" She heard Qui-Gon call, down a ways, out an entrance they hadn't known about. He didn't even has his lightsaber, or shoes.

"Padawan, get inside!" But both she and Dooku could see the inevitable, and he lept. She watched in horror as their attention turned from her to them, a spray of darts, a clip of the chain guards coming from the trees flying towards them both.

Qui-Gon turned to go back inside, running for cover; Dooku's curved saber moved in a constant arc, the blue blade whipping around with the precision of a battle-master, slicing through each dart as they found their target. But he had to alter his course to keep from barreling into Qui-Gon and her stomach turned as she watched one of the heavy weights from a chain smash into his shin with a sickening crack and the chain spun to wrap around both of his legs, collapsing him to the ground.

As soon as he was down, another round of darts came to her, keeping her form getting anywhere near him, even as she tried to push forward.

"Master!" She heard Qui-Gon's yell, but couldn't take her eyes off of the tiny darts until she was safely inside the building, listening to them pinging harmlessly off of the old stone. When she looked at the ground where he had been, she saw only the bright lights of a speeder zooming away in the distance. It was her and Qui-Gon.

He was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

"What should we do, Madame Nu?" The small band of rebels was gone, in their wake only an expanse of sliced darts and abandoned chains. He looked up to Qui-Gon; the boy was panicking and trying his best not to show it. His face was stoic, but she could feel his fraying nerves through the force; but panic wouldn't help Dooku, not now.

"We have to follow them on foot, go gather the supplies we have, I'm going to see what information we can find from what they have left behind."

He nodded, taking a deep breath before moving back into the building, running to get their supplies. She commed in the emergency transmission to the temple, and moved to scan the darts that were littered around. Little information came back, some general facts: this group spoke basic, they were the cause of much of the political unrest among the small number of sentients remaining on this planet. Xenophobic. Humanoid. The facts told her little about what actually mattered in this case, no central location or anything. They would have to rely on the connection she could still feel tied to Dooku.

Qui-Gon stepped back out of the rubble, shouldering his pack; holding hers in his hands. "Did you find anything, Madame?" He asked, and she could hear the slight waver of his voice.

"No." She answered, taking the pack. "We'll have to follow our instincts. Can you feel your master?" The boy closed his eyes, and she could feel the panic dissipating with a long breath he let out. After a moment he nodded, and she gave him a small smile. "Then let's go." She turned, her feet thumping against the ground as she led them in the direction of the speeder, running full speed with the added weight of the pack.

She keep her eyes ahead, feeling his signature pulse faintly at her side, trying not to think of the consequences if they were to late. Of what might happen. She couldn't help but think that this was the force, telling them that they had been wrong….but that didn't matter now. Only he did, and she would not leave him alone.

* * *

The throbbing in his leg woke him up; pulling him suddenly out of the fog that he was hovering in. He groaned, and tried to move, but the rest of his body was bound tight; giving him less than a centimeter of motion. His lightsaber was gone, but even without opening his eyes, he knew that if he concentrated enough, he could break the bonds. But he wouldn't get far, his leg was definitely broken; he doubted his ability to outrun his kidnappers considering he couldn't run at all.

He opened his eyes, immediately seeing the back of a human head, the hair clipped short. They were dressed in athletic clothing, two straps, filled with darts stretched across their back.

"You are awake." The human turned to him, his silvery eyes regarding the captive Jedi. "Why are you here?"

"You brought me here." Dooku said indignantly, trying to keep any weight off of his leg, an increasingly difficult task.

"You are not of this planet." The man's eyes were a bright silver that glinted off the edge of the knife he held in his hand. "Have you been hired as a mercenary?"

"I am here on an archaeological mission. I am here at the request of the Galactic Senate."

"I do not believe you. You are armed." He took a step, now hovering perhaps an inch from Dooku's face where he was strapped to some sort of interlocking wooden hold. He regarded the Jedi carefully. "I do not have time for your lies. "Why are you armed if you are only here for research?"

"Perhaps because people are beginning taken hostage for doing nothing." The man reacted faster than Dooku would have given most non-Jedi credit for; although he could have done without the with the knife point that was now being twisted into the soft skin of his throat.

"I have no times for your games." The knife pressed in a little deeper, he could feel the first drip of blood running down his throat. "Tell me the truth."

* * *

"He must be in there, it's the only building listed on the radar for kilos." Jocasta said, dropping her bag from her shoulders. They had run for most of the night, the sun of this system coming up over the horizon. Without glancing at Qui-Gon she could feel both the tiredness and fear radiating off of him. She ignored it, that would be for him to discuss with Dooku when they were reunited.

"I can feel him in there." The Padawan was grimacing, and she understood. She could feel the pain he was in through their bond, each rush of agony tearing at her heart.

"Let's go." She said, withdrawing her lightsaber from her belt, Qui-Gon doing the same. The compound was simple enough, with only one set of secured doors serving as an entrance; no windows, no ventilation that she could see; she felt around the outside of the building, feeling for a weak spot. They would have to cut through, and carefully. She could feel the presence of other beings through the wall; moving along it carefully. They were close to Dooku, who was radiating physical pain in almost nonstop waves as she got closer.

She was getting choked; her breathing heavier as she pictured him hurt and in agony. "Are you alright, Madame Nu?" She nodded, not trusting her voice. The boy was concerned, and she suspected he was also enlightened. It would be hard not to have figured certain things out, though she hoped it wasn't to the full extent of the truth. But there were other things to worry about.

"We need to cut here." She said finally, they were a little while away from Dooku, but there were no guards or members passing through this piece of the hall. Her blade pierced through the metal, peeling back a hole large enough for them to climb through easily. She led them and Qui-Gon followed, dropping silently to the floor behind her.

She reached out with the force, feeling no presence other than Dooku's through a small door. Qui-Gon sliced through the lock keeping them from his master, kicking hard to open the enjambed door. She followed him in, the boy stopping on the other side of the door, almost dropping his lightsaber. She came up behind him, pressing a hand to his shoulder. Though, as she followed him in, she almost needed his support as she swayed.

The smell of blood was heavy in the area, almost making her sick. But the sight of him, bound with roped to a wooden frame, his leg oddly angled under his trousers. All over his neck and chest were star shaped cuts, the points of a knife blade having carved into his skin; cut into his chest was some symbol, one she recognized as part of the written language of the planet. There were bruises rising on his skin, but as Qui-Gon gasped and whispered, "Master," and went to him, he blinked at them.

"Thank the force." He said, his eyes moving from his apprentice to her, a small smile coming to his battered featured. Qui-Gon started to make quick work of the knots holding him their, and as he was released forward, she caught him, supporting him fully with her arms around him. It was comforting, being so close to him again.

"We need to leave." Dooku said, his voice in her ear. He tried to stand, but she had to hold him as he groaned, his leg bone shifting and refusing to take any weight.

"Your leg is broken." He pulled his face back to look at her, his expression tight with pain. "We'll have to carry you."

"I can carry you, Master." For a moment, she thought that he would protest, but a fresh wave of pain she could share with him stopped his protest. Qui-Gon stepped forward, trying to figure out how to lift the man, but before he could do anything definite, Dooku reached out with the force, using one of the ropes, tinged red with his blood, to bind his broken leg to his apprentice's. He looped an arm around the boy's shoulder, and together they became a single unit to move through the halls. She led them, but the compound had quieted as the troops moved out for the morning.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, if they were found, she would have to fight them; both o the other as good as incapacitated. "They have my lightsaber." His voice was tight with pain, Qui-Gon was doing his best to hold him aloft, but the pressure on his bone was heavy as they moved slowly. "We can leave it, however."

"Do you know where it is?" She asked, reaching out to check the next room for guards. There was a single guard, but on the far side of the room. She held a finger to her lips, and he shook his head, closing his eyes to help hold in a grunt of pain. She opened the door slowly, and before the man could turn to them, launched an assault on his mind.

It was simple enough, she stunned him; his eyes glazing over as she allowed Qui-Gon and Dooku around her, forging a path to the exit. This man was young, the underside of his jaw and expanse of his neck covered in tattoos that matched the etched symbols they had seen on the sides of the compound.

She stepped through herself, releasing her hold on him early enough to watch him slump to the floor, his muscles no longer supporting him, his eyes unseeing. "That was incredible, Madame Nu." Qui-Gon said admiringly, wrapping his arm tighter around Dooku as the man's steps faltered.

She could feel something in her chest, welling up and threatening to overspill. Something dangerous for a Jedi, for either of them; she tried to push it aside, but as she saw blood smear between Qui-Gon's fingers as he supported his master, it became stronger. It was anger, a pure, cold fury at these people who had dared to hurt him. Far more than a typical anger, not one that was an easy annoyance, something to push aside and move on from, but a burning rage that pulsed as readily as the force.

She shook her head, only one guard, on the other side of this door, remained between them and freedom. Her heart wanted revenge on these people, but the Jedi in her and the care she wanted to provide him for his injuries wanted them to leave. The final door slid open into what had to be a loading hangar, filled with many of the same kind of speeders they had taken him on. Others were gone, having left through the lift door that was still open to the outside world, the faint light of morning showing.

A single guard, human male, with clipped hair stood in the room, scrolling intently through a datapad. He hadn't heard them come in; she gestured for Qui-Gon to move Dooku to the nearest speeder, the boy complying as quickly as he could. With enough luck, they could be out of the hangar so that by the time the guard did see them, it would make no difference. She glanced over, Dooku secured in the backseat, Qui-Gon on controls, and began to make her way over.

Then the man turned, not far enough to see her, but far enough for her to see him. Or moreso, what was clipped to his belt. Before the thought could really occur to her, before she could process the risk, before she could feel anything more than a flash of anger, she called on the force and pulled the lightsaber from his belt.

"Jocasta!" She heard Dooku's voice, but it was too late. The man had lept around and was already spraying darts at them. She ignited the blades, laying his and her own over the other, spinning and twirling as she advanced on the man. E tried to back away, but she was too fast; in under a minute she had cleaved his gun into pieces, the point of one of her sabers at his neck.

"You have no business here." The man had no fear in his eyes, only anger and disgust.

"You kidnapped him." The man's face changed, his gaze moving to Dooku and Qui-Gon in the speeder, the boy having finally started the speeder engine.

"They are your family." He didn't say it as a questions, merely as a statement of fact. The words hit her hard, but she was determined not to show it, and turned away.

"We are representatives of the Galactic Senate. Let us leave in peace and we will not harm you." She said, and Qui-Gon maneuvered over to them, leaving it easy to get in the speeder.

"I will not pursue you." His tattooed face was regarding her passively, as if he didn't quite believe what she had said or her rejection of his idea. "But do not return to this planet. There is no business for your Senate here." She stepped back, sheathing the sabers, never turning her eyes from the warrior who never shifted his gaze from her.

"Go, Qui-Gon," She said as she was seated, and the world became a blur as they passed through the gate. She didn't look at the boy, none of them spoke. Her mind was full of everything that had happened, her own actions on this mission, her own feelings. There were things to consider, she knew now that they were treading into dangerous territory, but as Dooku's hand come over the seat, pressing gently into her shoulder. She closed her eyes, savoring his touch. But knowing that now, there was so much more at stake. They balancing on a precipitous edge; when this was over, when he was healed, they would have to talk again. But for now, she reached back and entwined their fingers again; hearing his soft sigh as he relaxed into sleep.

 


	15. Chapter 15

She watched him getting his soup, still limping slightly but determined not to show it. A week he had spent in the hospital, intermittently unconscious and in pain, but now he was standing again, released to temple duty. Qui-Gon had been sent on another mission with a group of other Padawans, infiltrating a school posing as Senator's children; personally she thought they could use the time apart. After Dooku's injuries, Qui-Gon had become almost obsessive over his master. He had spent entire days by his bedside in deep meditation, radiating healing waves of the force from himself to the man on the bed. While she knew Dooku was touched, after four days of this, it was clear he was at the end of his very limited patience.

It hadn't helped when he had been released from the medical ward to return to his own room, to the eternal care of his apprentice. He sat across from her now, looking at the expression on her face with a measure of guarded suspicion. "Is something amusing, Jocasta?"

She realized she had been smiling and couldn't help but laugh and reach for a small berry on her plate. His movements were still slightly stiff, the sewn over wounds along his chest and back not fully healed. But he was better, so much better. "Only you, Dooku. You never cease to amuse me."

If he had been suspicious before, he definitely was now, slowly eating the spoonful of soup suspended in front of him. He was giving her his trademark scowl, and she had to admit if she hadn't taken the time to get to know him so well, she would have missed the small glint in his dark eyes. "I've been called many things Madame, but never amusing."

"Perhaps you have simply been talking to the wrong people." He smiled down into his soup at that, and shook his head.

"What are you doing this week?" He said after another spoon of soup. "I think they've postponed any archaeological missions for the time being."

She did laugh out loud at that, earning a small grin from a tiny initiate who blushed when she looked over at her, smiling with one front tooth missing. "Yes, I'm afraid I'll be at the temple for the next several months. I've loads to do in the archives though, enough to keep me busy."

"It seems I'll be here for a while as well, at least until Qui-Gon returns. I wonder if you might be interested in having dinner again?"

"I might be." She said, and realized how much she did miss spending time with him. With the fallout from the mission and the aftermath of his medical trauma, they had had little time to spend together. This was the first time they had had a meal together since they had come back. "If I am allowed to drive."

* * *

She fisted a hand through his hair, pulling him down closer to her, his skin pressed tight to hers. They were both breathing heavily, her forehead pressed against his shoulder as he shuddered over her, holding himself up on his arms. She pressed a kiss to the new scar under where her lips were, falling ack on the bed, running her hands over his back.

He collapsed next to her, enjoying the empty apartment to not quiet his breathing or movements on the bed. "Are you alright?" She said, lacing their fingers together. She kept her eyes on the ceiling for a long moment, seeing the ethereal green light from his desk lamp move around the textured paint. She could feel the heat still pressing against her skin, marveling that only a little more than a week apart could have this effect on them, but she wasn't complaining.

She was starting to wonder if they had reached beyond the boundaries of the code at this point, it would be something to discuss at their dinner the next evening. Back into the town, she was nostalgic for their first time out together, before any of this, good or bad, had happened.

He turned on his and she felt his long fingers dance over her slightly seat-dampened skin on her arm. "I am always alright when I am with you." He said quietly, so quietly she would not have heard it had she not been paying attention. She couldn't keep the smile from her face, nor the twinge of guilt writ across her features as his arm came around her, lulling her into a contented sleep for the first time since their mission.


	16. Chapter 16

"Are you to take an apprentice soon, Madame Nu?" This youngling seemed intrigued by the books she was holding in her hand, his eyes pale green and fixated on a hundred things at once as they zoomed around the library before landing on her.

"Why do you ask, Zak?" She asked smiling a little, knowing perfectly well why he was asking. The boy was nearing thirteen, and she had noticed him spending a great deal of time as an initiate here in the archives, pondering over the holobooks and information she knew so well. As a archivist, she was one of the only Jedi permitted to have multiple students working under her, some who would leave the temple and become librarians and archivists and keepers of knowledge elsewhere, some who would become members of the Sentinel clan and move across the galaxy in search of things to add. Eventually, she would train her own replacement and join the ranks of retired Jedi who were spread across the galaxy, making peace with themselves before they rejoined the force upon death.

"I was only wondering, Madame." He bowed his head in what she perceived as shame. She frowned, not having meant to upset him. "I apologize."

"He was nervous, and she understood why, it was entirely uncommon for a Padawan to request a master or position.

"When is your lifeday, Zak?" She asked, and he blinked up at her, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"In two months, Madame Nu." He said excitedly, and she raised her eyebrows, seeming to ponder something.

"Well, until then, enjoy your time as an initiate and learn all you can." He nodded eagerly. "And also, see if you can shelve these for me, Master Yoda will be in soon and I want the library to look its best." The boy nodded eagerly, taking hold of the cart and pushing it away much too quickly than he should have. But since it was midday and the library nearly empty, she didn't truly mind, so long as he didn't hit anything. She did reach out with the force, bracing the wheels slightly so they slowed, and he turned to her, his face flaming red, before disappearing behind a shelf.

Yoda was coming, it was true. He had requested a meeting with her, over what, she wasn't sure. She and Dooku had speculated the night before. His health was practically returned to normal, though his apprentice was still on his solo mission. Dooku was growing restless and spent most days in the training rooms, perfecting light saber skills he had already mastered, leaping through the obstacle courses, sparring with whomever happened to be available. He had ventured into the city, gone to the Senate and attended meetings. He was keeping himself busy, and for that she was grateful. Hehad come to see her often in the archives, though he had begun to take a particular interest in the politics of a mid-rim planet called Serenno, a fact she intended to ask him about later.

He had no inclination as to why Yoda might be coming, if perhaps only to speak with her about the archives or the Holocron. Nothing extraordinary, perhaps a simple routine task of the temple's Grand Master. She could hear the tapping of his gimer stick now, and saw the top of Zak's head poke around a shelf before it disappeared again.

"Good afternoon, Master Yoda." He bowed to her, a gentle smile on his wrinkled features. "We can go into my office, I've made tea."

She wasn't sure Yoda would like the tea she had prepared, she knew that his species had special diet restrictions, but both he and Yaddle seemed to drink water as everyone else did. Sure enough, he accepted the cup when he offered it to him, seating himself on the smaller of the two meditative cushions available.

"Thank you, Madame." He said, taking a loud sip. She smiled over her own cup of tea. He appeared very formal, and commanded respect, but she knew the older master was a bit of a joker, and could be quite funny if one was willing to look past the seriousness.

"Is there something you wanted to discuss, Master Yoda? I have the files containing archive editions pulled up if you were wanting to go through them." She gestured, but knew it was futile by the look in his eyes. He was looking at her thoughtfully, and she couldn't help her slight frown.

"Come to discuss the archives, I have not." He said slowly, "come on a personal mission, I have."

"I'm afraid I don't understand…" She said, setting her tea on its saucer and setting it on the small table. He kept his held in his small hands, and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a long breath.

"Worried about my apprentice, I am." She sat upright, realizing where this might be headed, but kept silent. "Changed, Dooku is. Virulent, his emotions are."

"I don't mean to direct you, Master, but perhaps speaking with Dooku himself might be better."

"Tried this, I have." He said, and suddenly she was fixed with a gaze that hinted strongly that the small master in front of her knew everything. He knew of them, of their engagements, of their time together. "Making accusations, I am not. Good Jedi, you both are, loyal to the Order."

"Master Yoda, with all due respect, what Dooku and I do in our free time…" But he waved a hand to stop her from speaking.

"Your business, that is." He said, and smiled a little, which relieved her. "But confusing the future is, many turns affect his fate, and yours. Afraid, I am, for you."

She looked out of her office, out into the city streets below, which danced with light and the midday rush of the capital business. She thought back to their first night together, when he had said that he loved her. A fluke, she had thought at first, or an accident, a product of the moment. It had held onto her ever since, and she had noticed changes in her own behavior, particularly where he was concerned. Her reaction during his rescue, the anger that had risen up within her. These were not particularly Jedi like, in fact, they were very un-Jedi like of her, but she had ignored them.

"We have not and will not shirk our duties, Master Yoda." She said quietly. That was all she knew to be true in this moment. "This I can promise."

He was silent himself for a moment, seeming to regard her in a new way. She felt the touch of the force coming off of him, soothing, non-invasive. A touch of comfort rather than a probing for information. "Mean to offend you, I did not." He said, and rose from his chair.

"You didn't, Master. I apologize if it seemed that way."

"A new day, this is. Ahead of us, many challenges are." He said, and she smiled at him. "Stay strong, we will."

That night, as she stroked her hands through the back of Dooku's hair, his face pressed against her shoulder, she couldn't help but think of her conversation with Yoda. Dooku had asked her about it, but she had skirted the questions carefully, and he had eventually relented in exchange for more pleasant conversation.

"Goodnight." He whispered, his breathing slowing as he moved towards sleep, his force signature still slowly unwinding from hers.

"Goodnight." She said back, pressing a last kiss to his hair. She closed her own eyes, willing peaceful sleep to come. Instead, as she finally felt his body fully relax against her, she felt his signature finally retract completely, as if it did not truly want to let go. And that, she realized, was what worried her the most.

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

She woke to find the space next to her empty, usually occupied by a certain Jedi Knight who was now nowhere to be found. She sat up, sense alert, but saw none of his clothes or shoes strewn on the floor, or lying folded on the chair. She stretched, letting the blankets fall back onto the bed before she got up, he had probably been called away by some early meeting or obligation, especially since Qui-Gon was due to return in days and they would be leaving almost immediately on a mission again. She stepped into the shower, realizing she would be lying if she thought that she wouldn't miss him while he was gone, his presence having been a steady pulse at her side for weeks now, since he had been returned after his injury.

Even after her conversation with Yoda, which she knew was manifesting itself in the guilt-ridden dreams she had been having. But always, she had woken with him sleeping next to her, his face eased in sleep, and she had gone back to bed. He was the only person she knew who could look so serious, even in sleep. She snapped the water off, drying off with the one luxurious towel she bothered to purchase with some of her discretionary money one odd month a few years ago, and turned her thoughts to what the day might bring.

Hours later and it had gone as she expected. Thousands of files were pouring in each day, an almost overwhelming amount for her and the senior initiates that would be working the archives as a piece of their training, but she was able to guide them with a steady hand and get their work done in time for the evening meal. She knew it was almost time for her to begin training apprentices, though she was young, anything was apt to happen and they needed to be prepared. Their training was unique, accompanying Sentinel Masters on missions of diplomacy and fighting, accompanying her to the libraries and temples spread across the galaxy, or occasionally on odd missions to gather information herself. She was leaving to one of the far temples soon, after this flood from the largely unexplored outer systems was fully archived, and it might be nice to take an apprentice on their first mission. But this path was not for all Jedi, though she thought that Zak, who even now was shelving returned Holobooks, had decided this was the path he wanted to take. She would speak with him soon, she decided, perhaps even in the morning.

But for now, she was a little confused. She closed down the main area of the library, leaving the dim lighting on for any Jedi who may have need emergency information in the late hours of the evening and night. Dooku had taken up the habit of meeting with her at this time each evening, usually accompanying her to the dining hall so they could share dinner and discuss the day. But he was nowhere to be found, the hall outside the library empty. She shook her head, choosing to ignore his somewhat odd behavior, and instead went to enjoy a dinner with other Jedi and temple staff.

She sighed over her soup, thinking about the past few days. They needed to talk, that much she knew, but every time she was in his presence, the urge to discuss their problems left her. Not simply for the physical relationship they shared, but he had become a constant comfort in her life that up unto now, she had not realized. She left dinner early, her soup unfinished, and went to find him. They needed to discuss the guilt that was pressing on her force connection, and resolve this concern before it grew too large and overwhelmed them both.

She wasn't sure what led her to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, maybe it was the subtle pull of the force on her mind, that connection to him that was becoming more and more ingrained in her body. The room was almost empty, save for him in the very center, seated with his legs crossed on a patch of grass. His tunic billowed around his shoulders in the wind that rolled off the waterfalls surrounding them. She approached him slowly, feeling the strong hum of the force that dimmed as he blinked his eyes open to look at her.

He didn't smile, in fact he seemed troubled, almost concerned as she sat across from him. "Hello." She said, watching him carefully. She was grateful that the room was otherwise empty as she didn't know how deeply this conversation might go, especially since his face remained entirely impassive, not even his usual glint in his eyes that seemed only for her. "You are upset."

"No." He said, and she took a seat opposite him, mirroring his stance. She held his gaze for a moment until he broke it. To her surprise, as he looked down, he gave a half-hearted laugh, and shook his head. "I cannot lie to you, can I?"

"What is bothering you, Dooku?" She had the strong urge to reach out a hand and lay it over his, entwine their fingers like she had grown used to them doing for months now. But something kept her from it, premonition perhaps, or her worry about his feelings.

"It is not I who is bothered, Jocasta." He said. She watched him as his eyes came back to hers, full of some strange emotion. It took her a few moments, but she recognized, in the crinkle by the lilt of his mouth, the folding of his eyes, that the emotion he was showing was pain. He was hurting. "You talk in your sleep."

"Oh." She recalled her dreams the night before. That the two of them were sacrificing their own ethics and codes and the Jedi Order was crumbling as a result. Every time he smiled at her, there was pain. She knew it was guilt from not having worked through their emotions, their relationship. What it was and what it meant.

"Or perhaps it wasn't even your words," He said. "I could feel you through the force, Jocasta." He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a long breath through his nose. "Please, can we discuss what is troubling you. I didn't realize you felt so strongly."

She was floored for a moment, staring at him. She had assumed, after the conversation had started, that he might throw her words back at her, or say that they needed to stop their relationship before things progressed any further. But neither of those things were true. He only wanted to talk, to save this connection between them. She wasn't sure whether or not to be relieved or terrified, which she supposed was the problem.

"I worry about the depths of our feelings, Dooku." She said softly. "I think they extend beyond that of ordinary friendship."

"They do." He said. "We are also lovers, Jocasta."

"I don't mean by simple definition, Dooku. And I'm not referring to only our physical relationship." She said quietly. He waited on her to speak again, having nothing to add. "I remember during our first night together…" She paused and breathed. "Do you love me?"

He didn't answer. At first, she thought he was just considering his answer for a moment. But as his silence continued, she realized he was merely answering the question, unable to say the words that she now knew were true. After what seemed like a couple of very long minutes, he stood, extending a hand to help her as well.

"Qui-Gon returns tomorrow, and then we will be gone on another diplomatic mission in the mid-rim." He said, very matter-of-factly, seeming to avoid the issue. She almost interrupted him, but he continued. "Perhaps we should discuss this more once we return." He said softly, looking up at her from the floor once again.

She wanted to resolve it now, but her chest felt heavy, almost like she couldn't speak. "I agree." They walked out of the Room, the sound of rushing water fading behind them. He walked with her to her apartment, but for the first night in what felt like a lifetime, he did not come inside but turned to go to his own. When he was gone, she pulled the door closed and leaned heavily on it, running her hands over her face, letting her hair down from where it had been pulled back against her head.

The day had not gone as she had expected. Or wanted. But still, it was what it was. She didn't feel like doing much else besides getting ready for bed, so she did. She laid still in the sheets they had been sharing, still able to faintly smell him on the pillow next to her. She closed her eyes and breathed, feeling a tear come to the edge of his eyes. She thought of his voice, quiet as they came together, but strong and deep as always, saying that he loved her. And now, when she thought of his strong face, and his clear intellect, and his kind smile that he couldn't help when he saw her, she realized, quite simply, that she loved him too.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's really been a long time. I lost inspiration there for a while, it hard to keep writing when not so many people are reading, but you all have been awesome and I really appreciate your support. Thanks to everyone, I hope the new chapter was worth the very long wait! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy, please R and R, let me know what you think!

“You are troubled, Master.” Their brief diplomatic mission had been largely a success. Mostly due to Qui-Gon, Dooku would readily admit. He was more callous than he had intended to be, and thus the bulk of the talking had been left to his apprentice. Perhaps it was better that way, though he could tell the constant barrage of answering questions and dealing with personal squabbles had exhausted Qui-Gon, which was never an issue for Dooku. He realized, perhaps a day into the mission that should Qui-Gon take an apprentice, it would need to be someone who could maintain those sorts of conversations. Someone like him, even. It was an odd thought to think how compatible he and Qui-Gon had turned out to be in the end.

Now Qui-Gon looked at him with the same intense, intelligent gaze that he always seemed to have when Dooku didn’t want him to. Dooku let out a soft sigh, knowing it would be far easier to simply address the issue now than to let it fester. “You’re too observant, Qui-Gon.”

“We are taught to notice everything.” He quipped back.

“And apparently you missed the lesson that you shouldn’t comment on everything you observe.” He watched Qui-Gon blush faintly, still young enough to be chastised, though in only a couple of years, he would be more than ready to take on the trials and he would be training his own apprentice.

“I am sorry, Master. I am only concerned.” He said softly, leaning his head back and watching out of the small port window to the dark vastness outside of the window. It was less than a day’s journey back to Coruscant and though Dooku planned to sleep for most of it, this was rapidly becoming a conversation he could no longer avoid. “You have not been yourself as of late.”

“I know.” And he watched Qui-Gon try and fail to hide his surprise at the admission. “I have been dealing with many questions I find it difficult to get clear cut answers to, Qui-Gon.”

“what are they regarding, Master?”

“The code.” Qui-Gon stiffened slightly. A natural reaction, Dooku knew. As children, they were taught to trust the Code. That it would carry them through the darker parts of their lives and they would emerge whole and connected to the force on the other end. But he also knew that Qui-Gon, with his gentle manner, and the tears he still shed over the deaths of innocent civilians during their campaigns, and who had questioned the validity of both the Code and the Council during their mission on Boromir and who he knew harbored more than the ordinary amounts of affection for a fellow Padawan named Tahl. Qui-Gon was no ordinary Jedi, and he felt safe that they could discuss this between them.

“Oh.” Was all he said for a long moment before looking over at him with a strange gaze. “Is it Madame Nu?” He all but whispered.

“Yes.” Dooku knew there was no point in lying. The boy would know. Their years together had given Qui-Gon rare insight into the inner machinations of his mind. It would not be easy to fool him.

“Do you love her?” Dooku let out a long breath, taking his own turn staring out at the galaxy beyond the port window. Did he love her? He had spent this mission attempting to come to some ort of conclusion about that very question. In the end, it had been very clear. He tried to imagine a life with her not in it. For him to go back to the way things had been before he had talked to her and they had become so close. He couldn’t do it. And she was now an irrevocable part of him. Yes. He loved her.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to leave the Order?” Qui-Gon said quietly. Not accusing. Not even afraid. Only curious.

“No.” After their last discussion, and the things she had said to him even as she clung to him in sleep, he didn’t think she felt the same. If he left, it would not be with her at his side. And then, what would he do? Go back to Serenno? Be a count? He wanted more from life than that…or at least, he thought that he did. It was only once he allowed himself to consider that future. But she was there with him. And his brain, in that unconscious time between sleeping and waking had imagined them on Serenno together, in his arms a small child, with her soft face and his dark eyes. He had woken up in a cold sweat.

“What if she asked you to?” That was not a questions he was prepared for. HE blinked, long and slow, and when he opened his eyes, Qui-Gon’s face was red with embarrassment.

“I wouldn’t leave until after you finished your training, Qui-Gon.” Qui-Gon looked at him strangely. As though confused, and Dooku realized after a moment that hadn’t been why the boy was asking at all and he felt a strange twinge of guilt settle in his stomach. But before Qui-Gon could respond, he stood up.

“I’m going to sleep before we return.” He said abruptly and left Qui-Gon to stare at the back of his head as he walked away. He resisted the urge to com her and left his commlink plugged to the small station next to the beds they had been provided. He closed his eyes, adamantly refusing to think about her before drifting off to sleep.

It didn’t help of course. And when he woke, it was again in a cold sweat, picturing that question falling from her lips and the images of a life for them beyond the Order.


End file.
